


231 Farrington

by Kelkat9



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dark Character, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knifeplay, Leather Trousers, Mugging, Neighbors, Nudity, Swearing, Virginity, Voyeurism, Whump, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4326915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/pseuds/Kelkat9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The residents of 231 Farrington were anything but typical.  It was one of the things Dr. James McCrimmon liked about the building, fascinating and diverse neighbors.  One of the most intriguing neighbors was the blonde woman who lived in the basement flat.  No one knew much of anything about her.  But that would change for Dr. McCrimmon as he found himself pulled into her world, one filled with the impossible and fantastic.  It would change his view of everything forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a prompt for a neighbor AU I received back in February and part of something I found on a list of paranormal AU prompts. It's a little different and this characterization of Rose is a touch darker and not quite human. This is very much a twist on fairy tales and switching up traditional roles where the dragon seeks a prince and maybe she has to save him a few times ;)
> 
> I think it will be 3-4 chapters in length and is un-betaed. This kind of an exercise to get me back into writing.

Fairy tales weren’t real. At least that’s what all parents taught their children as they matured and outgrew their infancy. Childish wonder was set aside for the reality of school, work, relationships and the challenges of life. Sometimes, however, those stories were not forgotten or so easily dismissed. And the reality was that a granule of truth lay within those childhood tales. 

The Brothers Grimm sanitized and romanticized fairy tales often based on gruesome legends of cannibalism, starvation, jealousy and murder. These stories evolved over time into more whimsical tales of princesses, fairies, magical kingdoms and imaginative beasts both friendly and fearsome. Thus the true origins and historic references were often lost to time and mythology. But the origins of those stories should never have been forgotten. Once upon a time, the world was a different place inhabited by very different people and dark things existed in the deep woods where no one dared venture. 

Those woods, ancient lands, castles and realms still exist in modern times. The eternal truth is the world will always consist of a mixture of darkness and light. And within the subconscious of all humans is that tiny little heart pounding nudge about what lurks in the shadows beyond their ability to perceive, where imagination may manifest darkest fears or fantastic dreams. And that is where the lines blur between fairy tales and reality.

University physics professor, Dr. James McCrimmon, was not one to fall victim to fanciful tales or unfounded paranoia. A man of science with a drive to constantly learn and explore combined with an insatiable curiosity, he sought to uncover and reveal those mysteries that still eluded humanity. 

This zest for discovery made him a sought after professor at London University. Enthusiastic and inspiring to his students, he was known around campus for wild experiments and publishing brilliant papers. Despite his success, he was disinterested in stodgy university politics and the rigid rules of academic life. Instead, he chose to live a more bohemian existence off campus. 

231 Farrington with its brick, art deco exterior, moderately priced flats and colourful residents, seemed a perfect home for the free spirited professor. And Dr. McCrimmon, or the Doctor as he was known in the building, didn’t take long to meet his neighbours and establish himself as one of the eccentric residents. 

Before sunrise every morning, the brown pinstripe suited professor bounced down the steep and narrow stairs smiling at his half asleep neighbours on their way to work or school. Elderly but spry Wilfred Mott from 202 always greeted him with a smile as he ambled down the stairs toward his newsstand. The two men debated and discussed astronomy, history and Wilf’s favourite -- mythology. 

Often, they would be interrupted by a shouting match between the couple in 115, Aseem and Kalal , shouting at each other in their lyrical native language. A few of the banged up and battered doors down the hall would creak open. Sleep tousled heads peeked out in the flickering yellow light of the hall muttering about rest and foreigners. During this almost daily ritual, a few of the younger residents would stumble up the stairs looking haggard and half pissed from a night out. 

The Doctor smiled and winked at everyone wishing them good morning and offering hints about the weather as Wilf chuckled or clucked his tongue at a few of the less than enthusiastic neighbourly responses. But, when they reached street level, their pace slowed as they knew there was a chance they’d bump into one of the more intriguing residents in their building.

The subject of much gossip was a young blonde woman who lived in the only basement flat that was habitable. She looked to be in her early twenties, was known for an ever present black leather coat, odd hours coming and going, and often with her arms filled with stuffed bags or boxes. Many shook their heads in pity whispering how the poor girl must be a bit off her head living in the musty basement all by herself. The blonde almost never spoke other than a soft hello as she punched the button for the sublevel in the lift. Her quietness and strange behaviour often caused the residents imaginations to run wild with speculation. 

Wilf was especially prone to hypothesize about who she was and why she lived in the basement. Some days he suggested she was in witness protection. Other days he grew more fanciful, that she was a bounty hunter; collector of rare antiquities; that she was Persephone and her flat was the entrance to the underworld; or that she was just a shy young woman seeking solitude from a harsh world. 

The Doctor couldn’t deny he often wondered about her. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself. As she shifted the weight of her always overflowing packages, he detected confidence in the way she held her head, dark lined eyes directed ahead of her unafraid; but sometimes he’d also see a slight vulnerability as she entered the lift and her shoulders slumped slightly. Or maybe he was drawn to the soft smile he’d glimpsed as one of the neighbour’s children ran by her. Sometimes he thought he observed a touch of longing or loneliness reflected in her guarded expression. That was something he understood all too well. 

But he often dismissed that idea. How could an attractive and desirable woman with such a lovely smile be lonely? A woman like her would draw men to her like moths to a flame. He couldn’t deny he could be one of those moths flitting about her prepared to dive head long into the inferno. It wouldn’t be long after he pondered this, when h would gain first hand insight into those moths and why they’d willingly risk singing their wings. 

One morning, Wilf twisted his ankle and the Doctor insisted they take the lift down to the ground floor. After an initial rebellion and lecture about endurance and walking home in six feet of snow with a broken foot, Wilf agreed. Caught up in a discussion about the Herculean task in the Garden of Hesperides and the dragon Ladon, the Doctor walked through the open lift doors and straight into his lovely neighbour with her arms filled to the brim with packages. With a gasp and squeak of his trainers, they fell down in a tangle of limbs and boxes.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled as he scrambled to straighten his glasses on his nose before focusing on his enigmatic neighbour. His mouth gaped as he met whiskey coloured eyes that seemed to burn into his soul. He blinked and he swore time slowed. 

“Are you all right?” Wilf asked with a slight chuckle in his voice.

“Yes, I think,” the Doctor answered still staring at the silent woman watching him intently. Her warm hand pressed into his knee and it felt like that warmth spread outward through the rest of his body. 

“Hello,” he said, watching as a slow smile emerged on her face.

“I like your tie,” she replied before she rose up in one elegant, lithe movement, blonde wavy hair bouncing as she stood. 

“My tie,” he repeated and looked down at the brown and blue swirly tie he’d chosen at random that morning.

When he lifted his gaze, she held out her hand to him. His cheeks flushed, he felt warm fingers lace with his as she pulled him up with a surprising amount of strength for such a petite woman. Flustered and running a hand through his tousled hair, he looked down at the packages scattered around them.

“Oh, let me help.” He knelt down and paused his brow furrowing as he picked up a sparkly pink chuck lying before him. Its mate was in a box tipped on its side on the floor. He glanced down at other items spilled out across the worn tiles as a smile quirked his face. There were marbles swirled in a rainbow of magnificent colours; an old weathered copy of Alice in Wonderland; a pink quartz geode and bags of jelly babies. 

She knelt down scooping up everything with a quick and curt efficiency and stuffed the items in the box and shoulder bag which contained even more odd items: a book on Medieval history, rhinestone encrusted sandals, fashion magazines and other bric-a-brac. Once he determined everything was stowed, he stood up and held the shoe out to her as she struggled to shift the items in their containers.

“Good choice,” he said with a nod. “Bit of chuck fan myself.”

She looked from the shoe to him and back again as she bit her lip in contemplation. He swore there was a twinkle in her eyes as he met her gaze and the very air temperature between them heated. “I’m James McCrimmon from 302, by the way.”

She grabbed the shoe, her fingers brushing against his, pausing ever so slightly as if reluctant to lose contact with him.

“Rose, Rose Tyler. I live in the basement but I suppose you know that.”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and rocked back on his heels. “Oh I may have seen you around.”

Wilf limped over and bumped his shoulder against the Doctor’s startling him. “Oh yes! This is Wilfred Mott!”

Wilf held his hand out. “Nice to finally properly meet you. I’m in 202.”

Rose smiled so brightly at him the Doctor swore the room lit up from the sheer power of it. 

“Nice to meet you, Wilf. I’ve seen you about as well. Guess you boys like to get an early start to your day.”

“Wellll, you know how it goes -- early to rise and all that. No sense wasting our lives sleeping away when there's a whole big world out there just waiting!” the Doctor answered with exuberance and watching her shift her bag on her shoulder and change her grip on the box. “You sure I can’t give you a hand with that?”

“No, I got this,” she responded with a slight husky quality to her voice as her gaze fixated on his mouth. “Thanks for offering though. I wouldn’t want to delay you. After all, the world’s out there just waiting on you.”

His breath caught at how she wrapped her lips around the words and at the tiny bit of tongue that peeked between her teeth. Reaching up he tugged at his ear. “Yes, well, always willing to help a neighbour and friend in need.”

Wilf had been standing beside him, his gaze darting back and forth between Rose and the Doctor. 

She smiled and cocked her head to the side, gaze fixated on the Doctor as she swept strands of hair behind her ear. “Well that’s good to know. Guess I can count on the two of you if I need something.” Her words were enunciated in a particularly provocative way that made the Doctor swallow hard.

“Yes, of course, anytime. Just say the word, give me a shout or you know.” He winced at his babble.

She chuckled. “Thanks, Doctor, Wilf, it was nice meeting you.” She brushed by him and again he felt a flash of heat mixed with a slight scent of smoke or something burning. It was odd this scent, not exactly tobacco but definitely smoky. He turned to watch her enter the lift, hit the button and wink at him as the lift doors closed.

Wilf poked him in the side.

“She likes you. You should buy her a coffee.”

“Wilf,” the Doctor groaned. 

“What? You going to tell me you don’t want to have coffee with a pretty girl like her? Why if I was your age, I’d be delivering coffee to her flat.” This statement was emphasized with a gaze at the closed lift doors.

The Doctor smiled shaking his head. “I’m sure a young woman like her has numerous admirers and I’m probably not quite her type.”

“What do you mean?” Wilf asked, his voice pitching up. “You’re smart, not a bad looker and a nice bloke to boot! And the way she looked at you!” He whistled. “She practically set the place on fire. And besides, a woman like that needs someone like you to help…you know, carry her packages.”

The Doctor couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his freckled face. Wilf was like a father to him and there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to indulge his elderly neighbour. And he had to admit there was something about the lovely Rose Tyler that intrigued him. But he couldn’t ignore how young and vivacious she was; and if she was anything like his students, she was more interested in someone her own age to go off dancing, shopping and the things young people enjoyed rather than a university professor who spent most of his life in a lab or observatory. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t have fun or want to date or think he wasn’t attractive. He knew he was based on the number of women who flirted and offered to cook him dinner or do any other numerous of things for or to him.

Truth be told, he enjoyed the freedom to run off and explore at a moment’s notice without having to answer to anyone. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy sharing his life with the right woman. It was only he never seemed to find the right person. Something always seemed off and thus put the brakes on any intimacy or relationship. 

Still, he had to admit, the mysterious blonde captured his attention and there had been something electric between them. He stared at the lift for a moment before shaking off his musings. “I doubt she needs any help with her packages. She practically lifted me up off the floor.”

Wilf grunted. “Nonsense. She’s just waiting for her prince or knight in shining armour, a handsome professor to sweep in and offer her a hand.”

The Doctor smiled and slapped Wilf on the back. “Wilf you’re an incurable romantic.” Now let’s get you to your stand before the crowds hit.

“Well, all right, but promise me you’ll think about at least talking to her or inviting her to tea.” The Doctor sighed and tried to talk his way out of it but ended up promising to think about it before rambling on about his latest project as they walked out of the building.

He ended up keeping his promise to Wilf. Two days later he passed her as she entered the lift. Pausing with a hand on the lift door, she smiled at him. “Morning, Doctor.”

A beaming smile lit his face. “Good morning, Rose Tyler! Need a hand?”

“Not today. Maybe a rain check?” she asked as she shifted a bag on her hip.

“Yes, of course, love to,” he said and winced at his perhaps too enthusiastic response.

“Brilliant,” she purred, her gaze lingering on his as she licked her lips. “See you around then.”

The Doctor once again felt himself flush under her scrutiny. “Yes,” he answered, his voice lowering into a rumble. 

The lift doors closed and he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose wandering out the front doors of the building muttering to himself about hormones and mysterious women being the death of him.

The next encounter occurred in the dimly lit and cramped laundry room in the basement. He was in the midst of an experiment on a laundry detergent he’d formulated from banana and papaya peel. Kneeling down and peering into the glass door of the washing machine observing the solubility and suds capacity of his detergent, he was overwhelmed with the scent of something burning. Sniffing and furrowing his brow, he looked nervously at the washing machine hoping it wasn’t another combustible catastrophe like the one that got him evicted from his last flat.

The squeak of a washing machine lid opening followed by the soft whisper of material against metal caught his attention. He looked to the side and met the gaze that had haunted his dreams. 

“Rose,” he said with a happy squeak before clearing his throat. “Laundry day?”

“A necessary evil,” she responded, staring at his backside before turning back to sorting laundry and tossing a few items into the machine before her.

His gaze focused on a tantalizing glimpse of skin between her jeans and cropped t-shirt. 

“Is that banana I smell?” she asked as she pulled out a red lace thong dangling it from her fingers before putting it into a delicates pile.

His mouth gaped as he zeroed in on the lacy scraps piling up in front of her. His brain was shorting out until he heard a thumping noise and whipped around back to his own washing machine. 

“Bugger!”

“It’s just out of balance,” she added and walked over and shut it off. 

He stood up gripping his hair. “Yes but now the whole thing’s botched.”

She leaned in next to him as he poked at wet laundry, their heads almost bumping. “Doesn’t look so bad to me,” she confided, her breath puffing against his face. She inhaled. “Banana, mango and is that a touch borax and lavender?”

His eyebrows raised he nodded. “That’s quite impressive.”

She smiled and reached in pulling out a wet shirt and brought it to her nose. “Banana’s sort of unusual choice.”

“Yes well it’s an experiment in all natural recycled products. Bananas are nature's good mood food and help the body produce serotonin which elevates one’s mood and you know, makes you happy.”

She smiled brighter. “You’re a scientist.”

“Yes, doctor of physics, chemistry and expert in a bit of everything.”

She giggled and put his shirt back in the laundry, muttering, “Smart and pretty.”

“Uhhh yes wellll,” he drawled and again tugged nervously at his ear which may have tinged pink.

She leaned into the machine her t-shirt riding up as she adjusted his laundry and pulled out a thick dark blue towel. “I think this is the culprit.” She looked at him holding the dripping towel. “These machines are a little temperamental. You have to sort of talk to them and give them a nice thump every once in a while.” 

As he watched her fingers run along the side edge of the machine, he felt his pulse stutter. She was a woman after his own heart and he knew then he was a gonner. She stood up and laid the sopping towel down on a plastic chair in the corner.

“You said it was an experiment?”

Yes, I was taking readings and making observations but I needed it to complete the cycle.” He peered in at the wet laundry frowning.

“Could you just start the load over,” she asked. 

“No, I don’t have enough soap left,” he said with a sigh.

“How about a lighter load, like mine?”

His eyes were again drawn to her delicates pile.

A grin lit her face that some may have described as wolfish or predatory. “I don’t mind my laundry smelling like…you. I mean your scent.”

The Doctor was known for his babbling and constant nonstop chatter about everything. Yet in that moment, he could barely put two words together. She was flirting with him. And he rather enjoyed it even if he didn’t understand why. A little voice inside of him that sounded suspiciously like Wilf reminded him that the beautiful woman with eclectic tastes who had been haunting his dreams had just offered to help him with an experiment, was flirting with him and wouldn’t it be nice to enjoy her company. 

“That would be brilliant!” he finally responded.

She helped him set his wet laundry to rinse and spin before setting her lingerie into its special bag and placing it into another machine with some of his experimental detergent. He made his measurements and watched as wisps of red or black lace swirled in the soapy water. 

They chatted about his work and classes. He learned she owned a shop in Spitalfields where she sold an assortment of whatever caught her fancy. She admitted uni hadn’t been for her but she enjoyed reading and had a love of history. 

Her dark lined eyes lit up as she revealed the diversity in cultures in the area around her shop. Her honeyed voice recounted tales of old subterranean tunnels used for possibly nefarious purposes and the secret little niche shops and cafes one could find if you stepped beyond the modern, touristy places. Every inflection in her voice, how she casually rested her hand on his arm or caressed him combined with a bit of verbal sparring over the best chippy caused him to fall a little bit further for her.

The only thing that held him back was the rather pungent smoky odour that hung in the air around her. It was odd as he never saw her smoking and she bore no other markers typical with smokers. The scientist and teacher in him couldn’t hold back from commenting. He bit his tongue for as long as he could not wanting to spoil the intimacy growing between him, but he just couldn’t hold back.

They were removing her laundry, testing the fabric for any residue of soap and how well the scent clung to it post rinse when he brought up the subject that was nagging him.

“It’s nice,” she said as she sniffed her lingerie again and removed another load from one of the dryers.

“Yes it is. It’s formulated to remove any unsavoury odours or stains.” His eyes widened as she arched a brow at him. “Not that your clothes are unsightly or well, smell. I mean, obviously you have a scent and…” He trailed off and shuffled his feet. “I mean other than the natural Roseness of you. I mean you do have a hint of…”

“Of what?” she asked, her voice pitched lower.

“Well I couldn’t help but notice that tiny essence of smoke.”

She stared at him for a moment before her face transformed into a smile and then she giggled.

His mouth opened and closed a few times and tucked his hands into his pockets unsure what else to do with them. 

“Not be rude, although I’ve been told I am.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just you’re so lovely and nice and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. And smoking will seriously impact your health and well, I’d like to help. One of my colleagues quit smoking a year ago after she lost a few teeth and developed a nasty cough and heart palpitations. Not that you have bad teeth. I mean their lovely and even and white.” 

She walked over and put two fingers against his lips, her eyes dark as she breathed him in. “You are so adorable. Seriously, I could eat you up. But you don’t need to worry. I don’t smoke cigarettes or anything addicting. Promise.”

He nodded his head and she released his lips pressing her fingers to her mouth and kissing them. Turning back to the washing machine, she left him confused and slightly flushed.

“But you smell of smoke,” he sputtered without thinking.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. Can’t really control it.”

The clothes dryer buzzed and he jumped. She stood a few feet away leaning against the washing machine watching him and nibbling on her thumb nail as an awkward silence rose between them.

Shoulders slumping he squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry. I jumped to a conclusion based on little evidence.” He tangled his hands in his hair, tugging in frustration. 

She smiled brightly and pushed off the chipped white machine. “It’s all right. You were just being a caring friend. We are friends aren’t we?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I mean I’d like to be.” He swallowed hard as she stepped closer to him feeling almost like he was being stalked by a prowling lioness.

“Good. Then tell you what, you can take me out for dinner.”

His eyebrows shot up as she brushed lint off his coat and slid her fingers over his floral silk tie. 

“Since we clearly haven’t reached a decision on best chippy, I think you should take me to your favourite spot and we can continue our…debate,” she suggested with a tongue teasing smile.

His mouth quirked. This was unexpected but he liked that about her, how she was unique and so full of life. He nodded his head. “Deal. Tomorrow night work?”

She nodded. “I’ll meet you in the lobby at seven sharp.”

A zing of excitement pulsed through him. He was going on a date with the most fascinating woman he’d met in a long time. It never occurred to him she may be even more exciting than he could ever imagine or that his life would very soon be turned inside out in a blink of an eye.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm I'm not sure this came out exactly as I wanted. I'm working my way through writing a slightly darker female character but still keeping her with a sweet Rose side as well. More of that will be fleshed out in chapter 3. I've purposefully avoided any of her introspection and tried to stay with more his POV. That will change eventually once a certain thing happens.
> 
> Quick note: This chapter involves a mugging and some slight knife play. Nothing graphic but I'm told that could bother some people so I thought I'd put a note on it in case you want to avoid that type of thing. If you are sensitive about kidnapping, mugging, people fighting over a love interest, aggressive characters etc., this probably is not the story for you.
> 
> Thanks for reading and and all the lovely comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Trainers slapped against the pavement and a long brown coat flared behind him as the Doctor raced forward zig zagging in and out of crowds of pedestrians. A taxi blared its horn as he darted across the street, and a bicyclist shouted curses at him as they almost collided. Breath panting and heart pounding, the sight of the Farrington sign on his building offered a slight relief. Bolting through the double door entrance, uncaring if anyone was on the other side, his stomach twisted as he watched the lift doors begin to shut.

“Rose!” he shouted and sped forward.

Blonde hair curtaining around her face she looked up at him and put a hand out to stop the doors from closing.

“I’m so sorry,” he babbled, a hand tugging at his hair. “I got a bit caught up at work and then there was a student crisis and when I say crisis I mean the lab was on fire. And then Professor Jones stopped by with a stack of paperwork and I sort of…” He trailed off at the look of hurt mixed with annoyance reflected in her eyes.

“Forgot about our date, about me,” she answered, her voice cracked slightly but still with an edge to it.

“No, no, no! I could never forget about you. I just…” He shifted his feet on the floor and sniffed, catching the ever present scent of smoke about her only this time it seemed a touch more acrid. 

He felt heat flush his neck in the awkward silence while he watched her trail a finger on the edge of the lift door. Her face was downturned for a few seconds before she looked up to meet his gaze.

“Wilf told me you have an issue with being on time.” 

“Wilf?” he said, his mind racing with scenarios of all the things his friend could have said. “Yes, welllll maybe a little.”

“We said seven and it’s quarter to eight. You left me standing down here waiting and wondering.” She paused biting her lip. “But it was you so I stayed. Wilf stopped and talked with me for a bit. I like him. He’s nice. But even he wanted tea by half past. He said I should give you another chance that you were worth it. So I still waited until--” She trailed off, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to work something out.

His face fell as he felt conflict rolling off of her in waves. “I know and I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I truly am sorry.” He emphasized shaking his head and pleading with her. “I didn’t have your mobile number or I would have rang you. Please let me make it up to you - please.”

She looked down again, toeing her boot into the cracked linoleum floor of the lift. Sweeping her hair aside, she lifted her head, inventorying him, brown eyes shining with regret and a slight pout of his lip. With an exhale she reached out and cupped his face, her thumb lightly caressing his cheek. “My precious Doctor.” She shook her head. “Just don’t do it again. Make me wait and worry, I mean. I did worry. You’re important and I care about you.”

He nodded his head, enjoying her warm caress. “You’re important to me too. I mean we’re mates, yes?” he asked.

A slow smile lit her face. “Mates,” he said drawing the word out. “Yeah, we are.” She sidled up to him and wound her arm through his. “As I recall, you owe me dinner.” Her words purred out and his toes curled in reaction to her voice.

“Just you wait, Rose Tyler! I’m going to tantalize your taste buds with a culinary masterpiece.”

She affectionately bumped her shoulder against his as they strode out into the street and a teasing smile emerged. 

“I believe you promised me the best fish and chips in London.”

“I did and trust me, once you have Alistair’s you’ll never go back to anything else.”

She rested her head against his shoulder and inhaled humming as he led her around a corner. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Once you find what you covet, nothing else matters.”

He laughed. “And you covet a good chippy do you?”

Head turned up toward him, a light twinkled in her eyes. “Something like that. A good chippy should be treasured.”

He grinned in response to her comment. “Well Alistair’s is definitely a treasure.”

The two strolled and sometimes skipped down the sidewalk and across a few streets. He pointed out little nooks and crannies amongst the rows of shops, cafes and grocers they passed. A happy lightness and warmth enveloped him as he expounded about the history and architecture of the city. And Rose listened raptly adding a few lesser known facts about what lay in subterranean London. 

Secret passages and layers from centuries past were tucked beneath the modern city. He enjoyed listening to her slightly husky voice as she talked about old Roman ruins, long forgotten plague pits, mines used to build the city and secret caverns used to hide treasure and other more nefarious deeds. He teased her about her fondness for underground spaces. A throaty laugh bubbled forth and she curled into his side.

“History’s important. London is built on millennia of what came before, kingdoms, forests, marshes and all the creatures that lived here before it was settled. You couldn’t have all these shiny buildings without what lays in the darkness. It’s important-- knowing about the people who came before. You know, it’s about roots and feeling that connection, grounding yourself in the Earth beneath your feet.” She jumped up and down. “Besides, it’s in my blood. My family’s been here for generations. We’re sort of part of this place. It’s home -- our domain you might say.” She slid her hand down his arm and entwined her fingers with his.

“And I like my flat tucked away where it is. It’s cozy and safe. And after all, it’s where I met you.”

“Well, I suppose you have a point. It’s not like humanity hasn’t dug down and built fortresses in the Earth and especially around here. Just look the Tower. It was a palace, an armoury, a prison, a treasury, home of the Royal Mint and of the Crown Jewels. Over nine centuries and still standing strong, holding some of the most important treasures in English history!”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” she said softly and rubbed against him. “Treasure is in the eye of the beholder. What’s treasure to one person is just a bunch of shiny baubles to another. Real treasure is rare, special and more important than cold stones and trinkets.”

He gazed down at her, feeling the warmth and affection directed at him. Clearing his throat he rambled on about the history of the English crown. They continued on, bantering back and forth about everything from castles, proper tea preparation and the finer points of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

By the time they reached the chippy, he couldn’t deny how besotted he was by her. In the short time he’d known her, he felt a genuine kindness and warmth. She was quirky and unusual. But she also listened and cared about what he thought, about the city they lived in and had a sparkle of joy that bubbled forth even amidst ducking down a trash filled alley. 

Rarely had he experienced such a connection with anyone much less on a date. Internally, his heart fluttered at this. Was this a date? They were just mates and he was buying her dinner as a thank you for help with his experiment. Only somehow, this thank you dinner had turned into something more. He wasn’t sure when it happened. Was it when he saw the disappointed look in her eyes when he was late? Did it happen on the street or perhaps it was there since the laundry room. 

The scent of fried fish wafted over them as they entered the crowded chippy. Waving at the cooks in back, he guided Rose through the crowd to tiny booth in a back corner. Paper cartons filled with crispy fried fish and chips soon sat on the worn and chipped blue laminate table between them. They grinned at each other and tucked in. She doused her chips with vinegar and ate them with relish, closing her eyes and groaning with enjoyment. He could barely eat his own meal, so engrossed watching her lick her fingers and enjoy her meal. 

There was much discussion about the chips in particular. Analysis was made as to chip thickness, the perfect saltiness mixed with a crisp exterior and creamy potato interior. But the crowning glory was the delicate fresh fish deep fried to perfection. Not too oily, the batter done to a perfect consistency, she had to admit he was right and Alistair’s was her new favourite. Still, she insisted she take him to her go to chippy, just for comparison and discussion. Thus he found himself agreeing to a second date with her much to his pleasure. 

A light drizzle fell as they left Alistair’s and he didn’t want the evening to end. He insisted on stopping for ice cream and a stroll by the Thames as stars peaked through the rain clouds and the lights from the city sparkled against the dark waters of the river lapping at the concrete wall beneath them.

A comfortable silence fell and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

“I’m glad I waited,” she confided. “You really are very special.”

“I dunno about that,” he said staring up at the sky before looking back at her. “But I do know that you are. I’m not even sure why someone like you is out with me. There must be dozens of young men wanting to take you out and shower you with--” he paused and made a grand hand gesture. “romantic things.”

She smiled and leaned over the guard rail still watching him. “Doctor, there really aren’t – at least not ones I want to go out with. I mean I date sometimes but… you, you’re different. It’s like I said, you’re special and I like being with you. And besides no one’s ever taken me on a date like this. I like it. I mean I like you and me like this, together enjoying everything. I meant what I said earlier about going to dinner again, if you want.”

“Yes, I want very much to spend more time with you,” he said softly but with an intensity in his voice he so very rarely used to indicate how much he enjoyed her company.

One of her trademark smiles lit her face. “Good. Then I best get my precious professor home. I know you like to start your day early.”

He wanted to kiss her. The sentiment pounded in his brain all the way back to their building even as he chatted with her about his experiment and his latest paper. He was so lost in thought over how to procure said kiss that he never saw the danger nearby until a group of men grabbed both of them and dragged them into an alley.

Everything spun out of control. A knife was digging into his back through his coat. A man in the shadows wrapped an arm around Rose’s throat. Demands for money and valuables were made. Fear shivered up his spine as he watched Rose being dragged further into the darkened alley, her desperate eyes focused only on him..

“No, don’t hurt her! I’ll give you what you want.”

“Shut it. I’ll tell you what you’ll give us. And what we’ll take.”

He was slammed into a brick wall face first. His cheek scraped against the dirty surface. The knife pierced his coat. The tip stung into skin of his back as another man punched him in his side.

His mind raced as a sharp pain sliced through his body. With a grunt, he crumpled against the gritty surface of the building sliding down to his knees. “Rose,” he gasped as the men tore at his coat, wrenching his arm back and digging into his pockets. They cursed and hurled filthy names at him as he cried out at a burning stabbing sensation in his side.

His ears pounded as another punch landed into the side of his face. A man screamed. A thud and groan followed. Footsteps pounded, splashing dirty water on the pavement. The scent of decay filled his nostrils as he heard one of his attackers snarl, “Now you’re in for it, bint!”

“No, you are,” a gruff and strong feminine voice assured.

Rose stepped out of the shadows, her hair loose and tangled almost glowing in the dim yellow light. As he looked up watching her, he swore her skin shimmered and flames flickered in her eyes.

“No one takes my treasure,” she growled as smoke curled around her.

One of their assailants lunged at her. She grabbed his arm holding the knife and with incredible strength hurled him against the brick wall. Another man ran at her from behind.

“Rose look out!” he warned.

She turned and grabbed the man by the neck, her fingers digging into his flesh as his eyes bulged and he gasped for air. She walked him back into the shadows. The Doctor heard a strangled noise followed by a loud thump and crack followed by begging. The man crumpled against the wall across from him stared wide eyed into the darkness before his other friend pulled him up by the arm. He screamed in pain as his accomplice dragged him away. 

“Come on, Tom!”

Tom grimaced and groaned. “The crazy slag broke my arm!”

“Shut it!” the other man ordered and yanked him harder, looking fearfully down the alley before dragging his injured friend back into the street.

The Doctor sat against the brick wall whispering “Rose” while coughing and wincing at the pain in his side which he was sure signified a broken rib.

“Doctor!” Rose shouted and raced over to him, kneeling by his side resting one hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay, yeah,” she said as she ran a hand down his side.

He jerked away, his breath hissing. She examined him closely peeking at his back and running a hand over another tender spot.

“I’ll be fine. Did they hurt you?”

She smiled at him, brushing her lips over his forehead. “I’m fine. Just worried about you.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “What have they done to you, my precious Doctor?” 

A smile quirked at his mouth. “Precious? You keep calling me that. Is that really what I am to you?”

“The most precious treasure in all of London,” she said softly against his temple. “Now let’s get you home and patched up. Can you walk?”

He nodded his head and looked up at her. “You’re sure they didn’t hurt you.”

“Promise,” she whispered as she pulled him up and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

He squeezed his eyes shut and reached for his glasses which were missing. 

“Can you stand all right?” Rose asked.

He nodded and she braced him against the wall whilst she knelt down to retrieve his glasses. 

“Oh Doctor, I’m sorry,” she murmured as she held up the cracked lenses.

“No worries, I have spares in my flat,” he said and grimaced as he inhaled.

She quickly wrapped him around her and guided them out of the alley. “Easy, I’ve got you. We’re only a block from our flats. Can you make it?” she asked as they passed under a street light highlighting a swollen knot on his face.

“I’m all right,” he said with a quick smile which transformed into another grimace.

“No you’re not,” she said, her tone hard and her grip on him tightened. “They hurt you.”

Several people walked around them, staring. Rose held him against her, glaring at them, as if daring anyone to approach. The Doctor watched, furrowing his brow at how protective she acted. He was still trying to comprehend what happened in the alley between their attackers and Rose. Logically he couldn’t reconcile his lovely smiling neighbour with the woman vibrating danger and hurling their assailants around like they were nothing.

“Rose, I don’t understand what happened back there,” he said breathlessly as they approached their building.

“We’re almost home,” she assured him with a slight squeeze to his hip.

“But those men--”

“Are gone and not going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” She smiled softly at him and her breath hitched. “I could have lost you.”

“Oh Rose,” he said, his voice hoarse from strain and exhaustion. 

They reached the doors to the building which she opened with one arm, the other still wrapped around him and guided him into the lift. He protested mildly but she would have none of it. 

“302, yeah?” she asked as she punched a button for his floor.

“Good memory,” he noted, attempting to lighten his voice. 

From the worried looks directed at him, he assumed he must look bad. As the doors opened, he suddenly found the walk to his flat, interminably long. 

“Maybe I’ll just rest her for a bit,” he mumbled.

Rose sighed. “No, Doctor. Now come along. It’s not that far, I promise.”

He cursed as he stumbled once shoving her into a side wall. “Sorry.”

“Almost there,” she assured him. She fumbled through his pockets looking for a key.

“I think they knicked it.”

She groaned and leaned against his door. “Does anyone have a spare?”

“Wilf, but it’s a bit late for him. I’ll be fine. Just let me rest here and I’ll--”

“Don’t be daft,” she said as she gently helped him down to lean against the door. “I’ll run down to Wilf’s and be right back. You’ll be all right?”

“Oh, I’m fine. No worries,” he mumbled his eyes closed. “Right as rain here.”

He heard her mumble a curse and then listened to footsteps pounding down the hall. He kept playing out the events in the alley over and over in his mind. She’d appeared like one of the Valkyries Wilf liked to talk about in his tales of Valhalla. But not quite. Something had been off. She’d protected him but there was more to it. 

Footsteps padded along the hall.

“Oh dear, this is not good. Let’s get him inside.”

“Thanks Wilf,” Rose said with relief.

“Sorry to bother you, Wilf,” he mumbled. “Had a bit of an exciting end to our date and not in the nice way you’re thinking.”

Wilf chuckled as he and Rose helped him up and into his flat. He opened his eyes as a light was flicked on and he was settled on his sofa.

“I’ll find some antibiotic cream and bandages,” Rose said and walked down the hall toward his bedroom.

“Funny way to get a girl into my bedroom, eh Wilf,” he teased, wincing.

“Not the preferred method. You look like shite. That’s not how this works you know. You take her dinner, do a bit of wooing and then--” He clicked his tongue and whistled.

The Doctor grinned and moaned. “Ow.”

Wilf helped him remove his coat and suit jacket before propping him up with pillows. 

“My coat,” the Doctor lamented at the blood stain and hole in the back.

Wilf snorted. “I’d be more worried about what’s under the coat. He helped remove his oxford and his under shirt and tipped him forward amidst the Doctor inhaling sharply and groaning.

“Mmmm not too bad. Just nicked you. Good thing you wear all them layers.”

“Saved by my keen fashion sense,” he said with gritted teeth as Wilf sat him back against the pillows.

“And a pretty nurse to fix you up. This night may still have promise,” Wilf teased.

Rose arrived with an arm full of supplies.

“Your cabinet is chuck full of first aid stuff. Are you just prepared or do you make a habit of injuring yourself?”

“A little of both really,” he answered, one eye shut and the other watching her.

“Don’t listen to him. This one’s as jeopardy friendly as they come. Always setting something on fire.” He shook his head but winked at Rose.

A smile threatened to crack the worry lines etched permanently on her face. “Guess I’ll just have to keep a close eye on him then.” 

“You do that. Someone needs to at the rate he’s going.” He fastened his dressing gown as he yawned. “And with that I shall leave the Doctor in your tender loving care.”

“Thank you Wilf, for everything,” she said with emphasis and stood up to hug him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Call me if you need anything.”

Rose nodded and walked him out the door, watching until he reached the lift. She returned to find the Doctor staring at his coat. 

“It’s ruined. This coat was special. “Janice Joplin wore it and gave it to my Dad. He was an electrical technician at one of her concerts. It’s a family heirloom.”

His voice was cracked and his head lolled to the side. 

“I’m sure we can fix it,” Rose said assuring him and patting his shoulder. “But right now I’m more worried about you so let’s start with you first.”

She started with his back wiping his wound with antiseptic which caused him to whimper. With some subtle caresses and encouraging soft words, she made short work of treating his various contusions, cleaning scrapes and bandaging him up. She ran her hands over his bare chest, shaking her head as he flinched. Whiskey coloured eyes met a serious brown gaze peering at her as if trying to work out a puzzle.

“Who are you?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

She frowned and ran a hand over his forehead brushing soft brown hair back on his head. “Did you hit your head?”

“No – it’s just you’re too good to be true. You’re all blonde and bright smiles and fun. And you have good taste in chips not to mention you’re rather brilliant at dressing wounds.”

She sighed. “Doctor--”

“You stopped those muggers. There were three of them and one of you and yet you – you kicked their arse, frightened them and you don’t even have a scratch.”

“Just lucky I guess,” she said as she cleaned up the medical supplies and handed him an ice pack for his face.

His face contorted and he shivered as the cold pack met his swollen jaw. He watched her walk away and once again thought of how their night ended. When she came back, he sat up straighter.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

A naughty smirk lit his face. “Well if the lady insists--”

A hand sliding around his shoulders, she giggled. “You are so adorable but you need rest.”

She helped him down the hall and onto the bed where she removed his trainers and socks.

“Rose,” he said, his voice clear and insistent.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“I heard you in the alley, what you said about your treasure.”

She stood up and dropped his shoes by the end of the bed and walked over to tuck a blanket around him and kiss him on the forehead. 

“Get some rest.”

“But--”

“Rest, Doctor. I’ll be by in the morning to check on you.” With one last lingering look, she walked out, locking his flat door behind her.

His head thumped against the pillow and he stared at the shadows cast against the ceiling by his bed side lamp. He couldn’t get the picture of how she looked in the alley out of his mind, fierce, a wildness in her eyes and the essence of smoke swirling all around her. As his eyelids fluttered closed, he kept hearing her voice: “No one takes my treasure – the most precious treasure in all of London.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long chapter! I had a lot to cover :) I hope you like it. I am out of town next weekend so no update until after that. Sorry about the cliffie. I'm really looking forward to working on Chapter 4:)

The tinkling of glasses and quiet murmur of people enjoying a game of darts didn’t interest the Doctor as he sat in a corner booth at his favourite pub. He tapped his fingers mindlessly on the water stained wood surface of the table lost in thought. A waitress delivered a pint of ale. Muscles spasmed near his cracked rib as he reached for the glass. With a few careful breaths, he sat back and watched the bubbles stream upward. His mind wandered to the cause of his present discomfort. Over the past four days since his date with Rose, these pensive thoughts occurred frequently.

Rose, just thinking her name made his heart thump a little harder and a warmth flush through him. Sparkling brown eyes, a mischievous smile combined with their fascinating if not eccentric conversations had enchanted him. The two of them were so different yet they fit in the most intriguing ways. It would have been perfect if not for the unfortunate end of their evening.

And that was where his world went pear shaped. It wasn’t about the muggers or his injuries although the sharp pain in his side wouldn’t let him forget that anytime soon. It was the mystery surrounding his lovely defender. To look at her, one would not expect that beneath a lovely smile and charming personality lay someone capable of tossing men against brick walls or growling warnings at anyone she thought might pose a threat to him.

He sipped his ale and thought back on the infamous night. Everything happened so fast – she was dragged off – he was attacked – he heard a struggle – and then she appeared out of the darkness like an avenging angel. But she was no angel that night. He rubbed at the corner of his left eye as his mind whirled with the vivid memories.

She glowed but that was impossible. It had to be his mind trying to fill in the blanks, some strange reflection of the light against her skin. Maybe there was something in the lotion she used? He knew some creams used certain bio luminescent products or certain oils reflected the light or maybe even some crushed pearl essence. There had to be a logical explanation.

A droplet of water slid down his mug splashing on his finger. He shivered. She had done more than reflect the street lights. He focused on the memory of her eyes. They had transformed -her pupils blown large in brown pools sparkling with gold flecks. Something fierce and primal lurked in her gaze. Whatever it was manifested in her brute strength as she fought off their attackers. Yet when she looked at him, there was nothing menacing directed at him. Her face softened exuding warmth, comfort and something that went beyond compassion. Tears wet her face when she realized he was hurt.

Her breath hitched and she gently ran her hands over him assessing his injuries. The tone of her voice, soft and thick with emotion yet was raw and honest. She was no different at that moment than earlier in the evening curled up into his side giggling at some random thought he spouted or bantering with him about history and the importance of the perfect chip. He knew he should have been afraid of how easily she turned to violence but how could he be when she looked at him as she did, whispering soothing words, worry lacing her husky voice and so determined to get him home and safe. He didn’t know who she was, the mysterious neighbour, the adoring and flirty date or someone who made criminals run in fear.

“Doctor!”

Wilf slid into the booth opposite him, depositing his coat beside him and rubbing his hands together.

“You’re looking better. Must be all that tender loving care you’re getting from Rose.”

The Doctor grinned in response. Wilf was the only person he could talk to about their unusual neighbour, his possible new girlfriend. He swallowed hard as he thought of Rose as his girlfriend. That word seemed so inadequate to describe their relationship. And especially given all that had happened during and after their date.

“Evening, Wilf.” He nodded his head as their server appeared with a lager for Wilf. “How’s the news business?”

“Filled with dodgy politicians, graft, inequality, prejudice and a few juicy extra marital affairs!” He settled back after enjoying some of his lager. “You know, the usual.” 

Wilf leaned into the table. “I’m more interested in the romance blooming at the Farrington. Like how our mysterious Rose has suddenly been spending most of her day on the third floor and at a certain Doctor’s flat.” He winked as the waitress showed up with their standard meal order which always appeared without them saying anything.

The Doctor tucked into his Shepherd’s pie. “Wilf. I’d hardly call a few trips up to check on me and sharing a cuppa in the morning as most of her day. She just pops up to make sure I’m convalescing.”

He paused examining meat and potatoes on his spoon. “Although, maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s too much, too fast. I should probably--”

“What!” Wilf exclaimed. “There’s no such thing. I’d love to have a pretty girl helping me recover, feeding me tea and goodies and the like.”

The Doctor flushed. “It’s not that I don’t’ appreciate it. I love sharing my morning with her.” A smile quirked his face. “Even if she has a tendency to set off the smoke alarm with her culinary mishaps.”

Wilf waved a hand in the air “Cooking’s not everything. The point is she cares about you.”

The Doctor swallowed a bite and nodded his head. “Yes, she does. But maybe she cares too much. Maybe I care too much.”

Wilf shook his head. “I don’t understand. She’s a lovely, caring woman. I’ve chatted with her on her way to see you these last few mornings. There’s something more to her than a charming smile and excellent tea making skills.”

The Doctor’s eye brow arched up. “You’ve shared a cuppa with her?”

Wilf focused on his own meal, shifted uncomfortably and tugged at his blue plaid cardigan.  
“I might have,” he drawled out and met the Doctor’s pointed stare. “What? She’s lovely and makes these delicious lemon tea cakes. And don’t deny you like them. They were always gone when I went to check on you.”

“You traitor!” the Doctor huffed. “I thought she made those special for me.” A firm pout set on his face.

Wilf grinned. “Oh she does. It’s her mum’s recipe. She just can’t resist the old Mott charm!”

The Doctor chuckled and cocked his head to the side. “Her mum’s recipe? She told you about her family?”

“I asked her.” Wilf swallowed another bite of dinner and shook his head again. “Poor girl. You know she’s lost them. Or as she says it, they moved on to better places. She said it was all up to her now and she was going to maintain the family traditions and create some new ones.”

“She said her family had been here for generations,” the Doctor mused.

“Yes, we had a lovely chat about local history and how her family migrated to London from the North,” Wilf agreed. “She has old journals going back centuries and showed me a copy of one. Gorgeous family crest with great red dragons,” he exclaimed. “She’s originally a Drake, you know. Now there’s an old family line that dates back to our Anglo-Saxon roots. And she knows her mythology too. We had rousing discussion about the Arthurian legends. You can always judge a quality person by their ability to recognize the importance of history and mythology.” 

The Doctor smiled at the look of delight on Wilf’s face and felt a pang of envy. She had visited him several mornings and evenings bringing meals and they’d never discussed her family. He’d been too focused on looking for traces of the woman who had defeated their attackers, or was beguiled by her warm caresses as she rubbed his shoulders and neck. They’d talked about him and his life but never hers. She’d maintained an air of mystery and he’d been distracted by her throaty laugh or how she trailed hr fingers over the spines of his books and complimented him on his literary collection. And after talking with Wilf, clearly he was not the only one charmed by his mysterious Rose. 

After Wilf finished regaling him with some of the tales of Merlin and Knights of the Round Table he had discussed with Rose, they ordered another round of drinks. 

Even there with Wilf she dominated his thoughts and the conversation. It occurred to him that she tended to be dominant in many things but in the most subtle way. The morning after the attack, she arrived to find him struggling to button up his shirt determined to head to work. She said his name in that husky tone that had a way of sending vibrations deep inside of him. 

With a firm but gentle hand she guided him to the sofa and proceeded to remove his shirt lecturing him on how he needed to take care of himself. This lecture was followed by a brush of her lips on his temple with her whispering about how special he was to her. He swore she practically purred as she ran a hand down his arm in what was meant to be a calming gesture but which always made him flush with heat. But he couldn’t forget what happened in the alley. 

He watched Wilf settle back in his seat and thought about how observant his elderly neighbour was and how he had spent time talking to Rose. Maybe it was time to confide in him.

“I think I’m jealous, Wilf.”

“Of some old newsman horning in on your girl? Trust me, Doctor, she’s all about you. She lights when I mention you or when she’s on her way to see you.”

“Does she? How much so?” he asked, leaning into the table as his side twinged.

“What to do you mean, how much so?” Wilf asked, a flush on his cheeks indicating his enjoyment of his ale.

“Well,” the Doctor drew out and glanced around before continuing. “I mean have you seen her skin…you know glow.” He punctuated this by wiggling his fingers.

“How many of these have you had?” Wilf asked with a slight chuckle.

“No, no, no, I’m not inebriated, Wilf. I mean--” He exhaled before he met Wilf’s concerned gaze.

“Something odd happened in the alley.”

“Yes, you were attacked, beaten and practically needed to be taken to A&E.”

“Yes but…it was more that. Rose, she…well she beat the living shite out of those men. She was not our Rose.”

Wilf took his time enjoying his drink and then leaned in closer to the Doctor. “Are you sure you didn’t get a concussion? Maybe we should take a quick trip to A&E now?

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Wilf, I’m fine. And I know what I saw. Rose was…she was strong, powerful and protective of me. It was like something inside of her came out and she became something else. Her skin sort of glowed and you know how she always smells of smoke? Well it was like she was burning from the inside- her skin shimmered sort of golden, blue and green and smoke curled up around her. Those men were terrified of her.”

“So your girlfriend’s what, like goddess from the old legends? Or more like Xena – the warrior princess kicking evil’s arse!”

“Wilf, be serious!”

Wilf stared at him before taking another drag of his lager which he banged on the table. “Right. Assuming you weren’t hallucinating due to your trauma and all, and she was as you say -- what do you think happened?”

The Doctor looked down into his drink. “I don’t know.’

“Were you afraid of her?”

His head lifted and he looked Wilf in the eyes. “No, definitely not. Whatever it was, it wasn’t directed at me.”

“I don’t know what you saw. I do know Rose cares about you. Maybe you should talk to her about it.”

“I’ve tried but she keeps switching the topic.” His voice was tinged with a frustrated growl.

“Maybe what happened in the alley scared her too,” Wilf suggested.

The Doctor pondered this, swirling his drink in the glass. Perhaps Wilf was right. 

“Why are you looking for reasons to push her away?” Wilf asked.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve always been this way. Any time I’ve watched someone flirt with you, you always do the same thing. You did it with that French woman you saw for a few weeks.”

“Jeanne? We just didn’t end up meshing. It’s not that I didn’t find her attractive. She was sophisticated and accomplished but she wanted things I wasn’t ready to give.”

“And Professor Song?”

The Doctor shuddered. “Not my type at all. We figured that out early on and now she’s with one of my colleagues, John Smith, gangly young man with a thing for Fezzes.”

“And the list goes on. It’s you that always pushes them away. You tried to do that even before you even met Rose,” Wilf lectured.

The Doctor tugged nervously at his ear. “I don’t do relationships well, Wilf.”

“But you want to with Rose. I see it. You’re conflicted.”

“There’s just something about her. It’s an odd thing finding someone who fits in your life, makes you smile and happy by just being there, talking about the most outrageous or boring things.” A soft smile blossomed on his face as he stared across the room thinking about her.

“She’s afraid of losing you.”

He refocused on Wilf. “She is?”

He nodded. “She asked me if I thought she was smothering you. Even confided you were the first bloke to catch her fancy in ages.”

“She called me her treasure.”

Wilf laughed. “Then maybe you should make her feel like she’s yours. Now that you’re up and about, I’d say, it’s high time for you to ask her out for a second date and maybe a third and fourth. Talk to each other and figure out if you really do fit the way you think.”

The Doctor nodded and again focused on their last date. He did want to see her again and talk to her about what happened. He needed answers and not just about the alley. He wanted to know if what he felt was real.

***************

It was four more days before he saw her again. He missed morning tea with her even though it was his fault she wasn’t having tea with him. He’d told her not to bother and that work would eat up his next few days. She quieted, toying with a gold hoop earring and cut short their breakfast that day. But he asked her for her mobile number before she left and that earned him a small smile.

Work was tremendously busy. The Board of Regents was touring the facility with some new donor to the university. The Doctor tried to avoid the whole thing but still felt the strain and the hushed whispers about the Saxon Endowment. He’d heard they’d this new donor met with the Board the day he’d had his date with Rose.

Normally he enjoyed his job but dealing with department heads trying to make a good impression on important visitors was excruciating. He’d caught a glimpse of a posh group of men and women in suits as he’d ducked into the lab to deal with a few student mishaps. Despite the mess in the lab, he decided he preferred to help students versus dealing with academic politics or playing nice with Board members. 

Accidents in the lab occurred on occasion and especially the Doctor’s lab but fires seemed to be popping up all over -- in his building, in the car park and even in one of the nearby administration buildings. It seemed the school was suffering bad luck or was the victim of an arsonist. Numerous staff meetings and inspections over the past few days had given him a headache. After promising yet another school bureaucrat proper procedures were being followed, he was finally able to extricate himself and his first call was to Rose. 

Her honeyed, purring voice lit a thousand fires in him. A few hours later they were arm in arm heading out on another adventure. It was a stress free night and although it was on the tip of his tongue to push her on their prior date, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to ruin their evening and especially not when she grabbed him by the lapels and shoved him against a wall where he enjoyed the snog of his life. Giddy and enjoying the rush of pheromones, he could do no more than whisper her name and allow her to tug him along as they walked through a nearby festival. 

They’d enjoyed artwork, talked about movies, her work, his travels and their mutual desire to take a trip north and explore some of the Scottish Highlands and the crumbling castles and lochs. The night ended with a soft kiss in front of the lift and a promise to talk later.

Later turned into lunch at her shop the next day -- Tenuis. He’d grinned when he saw the name. One step into her shop, his eyes widened and his breath wooshed out in a gasp. He looked around in wonder at the narrow shop with every shelf and wall stacked with all manner of items. Old leather bound books, coloured glass bottles, old toasters, lava lamps and every manner of shiny bauble were mixed together on the tables and shelves. 

The walls were lined with old picture frames, posters and old pub signs; from the ceiling hung swaths of crystal laden lights, oil lamps, wind chimes and strings of lights. In this place kitsch met classic with a bit of funk and bohemian aesthetic thrown in for good measure. It even smelled like something from a fantasy with incense, old books and that undefinable musty scent of old wood, dust and time. 

He spun around like a kid in his own personal playground. Hand in hand she led him around bubbling with excitement to share the layers of odd items mixed with antiques she’d collected. They’d ended up sitting in back nibbling on take out and talking about some of her more unique finds. It was whilst discussing an old stone inscribed with druid glyphs, that she spoke of her family.

“My Dad collected a lot of old Celtic artefacts,” she said softly whilst running her fingers over the glyphs.

“Your family is…” He left it open ended.

She set down the stone and stared out across the dimly lit shop. “They’re gone. There’s just me here. I have a lot of their stuff though. This shop was my Dad’s once.”

The Doctor reached over and laced his fingers with hers. “He named it then? The name means the The Hoard, yes?”

She smiled brightly. “My clever, Doctor. Yes, he did. He loved this place. It meant a lot to him, the shop, the land and all the history tucked away here.”

“And he left it to you. You don’t have any siblings or cousins?”

Rose bit her lip a looked down at their clasped hands. “Just me. But I’m happy to have the shop. It’s part of my family. We’ve been here for generations.”

“Yes, you mentioned that.” He looked up and smiled as he caught a glance at some new fascinating item before turning back only to find her gazing at him with affection.

“I like having you here, sharing this with you. I mean it’s a shop and I have customers but I’ve never really invited anyone to…” She paused, looking downward with flushed cheeks.

“Thank you,” he said, squeezing her hand pleased that she was opening up to him. “I’m glad you invited me. I’ve always loved places like this.” The chime of an old clock captured his attention. “It’s so full of life and stories here. Anyone can have some sterile generic place selling what’s popular and trendy. But this place sells stories and a bit of magic really.

Without warning, Rose was in his lap straddling him, her fingers clenched into his coat. Her pink lips hovered near his and he was transfixed by warm brown eyes he swore flickered with golden sparks.

“Doctor.” She breathed out his name before pressing her lips against his.

Heat sizzled across his skin. She tasted of tandoori spice and sweet lassi. He slipped his arms around her, his pulse raced at each swipe of her tongue and graze of her teeth against his lips. 

The world drifted away as he immersed himself in the sensation of how she led him down a path of erotic kisses and groans that left his toes curling. The slight burning scent that was infused and a part of her caused his nostrils to flare but not with distaste. He’d become accustomed to her unique scent and although his curiosity remained unsatisfied, other parts of him were not unhappy with the intimate turn in his relationship with Rose. He burned for her. This was something new that he’d never felt before

Other women interested him and he felt desire but he never knew passion like he did for Rose. It made him want to forget muggers and mysteries. He wanted to feel her against his skin, to slide his hand across her bare thigh and know what it felt like to have her naked body wrapped around his. As he slid his hand beneath her jumper, she pulled back, breathing hard and staring at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” At the look of hurt reflected in his eyes, she quickly added, “No I did want to kiss you and do…” She paused, running her fingers through his dishevelled hair and straightening the glasses on his face. “Do so much more but--” She sighed an looked down at his rumpled shirt, resting her hand on his shoulder. “We need to talk.”

He swallowed hard and nodded his head confused but a little relieved. She was right. They did need to talk. In the heat of the moment, he’d been willing to shove aside things that he hadn’t said and all the things he longed to know about her.

“Yes, we should. I mean, not that it wasn’t brilliant but maybe the shop isn’t the best place,” he said in a thick voice.

The chime on the door sounded announcing a customer. Rose quickly hopped off his lap and straightened her clothing.

“Right, yeah, we’re in the shop.” She cleared her throat. “How about dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”

Running a hand through his hair as he calmed his own breathing and other parts of him that were slightly disappointed, he inclined his head. “Your flat or mine?”

A shy smile lit her face as she swept her hair behind her ear. “Mine. About time I let you into my secret lair don’t you think?”

“Yes, I’d love to! See your flat and have dinner, that is.”

She let out a breath he hadn’t realized she was holding. “Great, how about seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

She grinned brightly and walked toward the front to help her customer. Pausing she looked back at him. “See ya then.”

With a long exhale he leaned back on the chair, his legs and arms limp from the tension he didn’t realize he felt. Wind chimes tinkled above him and he looked up and smiled. “I’m gonna see her super-secret lair.”

With an excitement zinging through him, he bounced up and straightened his tie. He made his way through the maze of shelves and displays of her shop, smiling at her with her customer as he left.

*********

Not willing to risk what he hoped to be an immensely satisfying night, he left work early. The only slight glitch to his plans was when his department head tried to waylay him insisting he attend a Board of Regents cocktail hour to welcome their newest member, Harold Saxon. After a ramble about budgets, student grades and a project that might revolutionize anti-skid tires, he escaped.

Taking the lift down to the basement, he bounced from foot to foot with nervous energy. The doors opened as he realized he didn’t bring her a gift. His face pinched as he contemplated running back out for flowers. That thought was quickly squelched as his mind raced through the probabilities of him encountering some delay. It wasn’t worth the risk of being late.

With a roll of his shoulders, he walked down the dimly lit, musty hall past the laundry to her door. A smile lit his face as he traced golden stares painted on the vibrant blue door. He barely knocked when she opened it and greeted him with a sparkling smile.

Her flat was like her shop – filled from floor to ceiling with an assortment of items and yet it wasn’t cluttered. Sparkling crystals and strings of fairy lights hung from the ceiling and tea lights in coloured glass dotted the surfaces of every table. Her furniture was an eclectic mix of black leather and velvet Victorian in blues and greens. 

The floor was scattered with plush, colourful rugs and the walls lined with paintings and more of the pub signs he’d seen in her store. Much larger than he expected, it didn’t feel like a basement flat. He mused that the colourful décor mixed with mirrored surfaces made it look bigger than it was.

The scent of garlic and basil drew him toward the kitchen which put his own tiny cubical to shame. With stainless steel appliances and marble counters along with pots containing a variety of growing herbs, it was clear Rose liked to cook. 

“I hope Italian’s okay,” she said as she nervously started serving up linguine with marinara sauce. Dinner passed quickly and he had to admit despite her issues in his kitchen with burnt toast and well burnt everything, in her own domain she was amazing. 

Conversation was neutral and she appeared nervous, sipping wine and twirling her fork in the pasta. She focused on his work and talking about the weather.

It puzzled him. The kiss at her shop wasn’t their first although it had certainly been leading into a more intimate direction. Perhaps she picked up on his own nerves regarding delving into a more physical relationship. That particular thought relieved him. It was normal and something he understood.

After dinner she led him into the living room where they curled up together on her sofa. She poured him a glass of cognac.

“Doctor, there’s something I have to tell you.”

He looked down into the caramel colour of his drink. “Is this about the alley?”

She nervously twisted a strand of her hair around her finger, as she looked down at her lap.

“Sort of. You weren’t meant to see that. It shouldn’t have happened. I normally have better control.”

“Control,” he said slowly. “As in martial art skills or is this more a--” He left it open ended as he watched her.

She stared at him for a moment and then giggled. “Martial arts? That’s kind of funny.”

“Well you did sort of toss them around. But I know it was more than that. I saw something that night that I don’t understand.”

Her smile fell and she slid over curling up into his side. “I know and I’m sorry if I made you nervous. Like I said, it doesn’t normally happen. Lately, I’ve been distracted.” She rubbed his arm reassuringly as he waited for her to continue.

“When I met you, it sort of turned my world upside down. You’re just so…special and well, gorgeous and shine like nothing and no one I’ve ever met.”

“You called me your treasure,” he said automatically as he tried to understand what she was getting at.

She sighed with a soft smile and leaned over to kiss his shoulder. “Yes, you are. But different than any other treasure I’ve ever collected or longed for. You see, for me, my kind we sort of have a compulsion to collect things, pretty objects, items with history, things that satisfy emotional needs or calm our baser instincts.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Sorry, your kind? Do you mean you suffer from an anxiety disorder, compulsive hoarding and the like?” He looked around her flat. It was packed with items but not in an uncomfortable way. He mused if she suffered from a compulsive disorder, she was doing a decent job at controlling it. 

She sighed and reached for her glass of cognac. “I knew this would be difficult. I should have asked my Dad more questions about how he told Mum.”

“Rose, you don’t need to be concerned. I won’t think less of you and many such disorders run in the family. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

She downed her cognac and plinked the glass down on the table, the tea lights flickering against the glass. “I love you,” she said abruptly. 

“Oh Rose, I think I love you too. I mean, I do. I’ve just never felt anything like this before. It’s overwhelming and I’m not good at these things.”

She smiled and cupped his face. “My sweet, Doctor.” She brushed her lips against his. “This is all happening so fast isn’t it?”

He nodded his head with vigour. “Yes not that I’m complaining.”

“That’s the way it always happens with my kind. Dad told me one look at my Mum and he was lost. The fire raged in him, tormented him until he couldn’t sleep or eat without being near her. I was lucky we live in the same building so it wasn’t so bad for me.”

He sat back and stared at her. She had a unique way of putting things. He liked that about her but sometimes she said things that went beyond unique to bizarre. 

“I don’t think I understand,” he said with measured words.

“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t make sense to you right now. You’re a scientist and a lot of what I’m going to tell you…you won’t want to believe. So I need you to remember and think on everything that’s happened between us. I need you to know that I love you no matter what. And I hope with every beat of my heart, you can work through this. I need you in my life like I’ve never needed anything.”

“Because I’m your treasure?”

“Yes, a thousand times yes. You are my ultimate treasure – the one I will burn for gladly throughout all of time.”

He rubbed his face and felt a tension in the air. It was like when he was about to solve an equation he’d been working on for ages only this was Rose. Perhaps she was the most complex maths he’d ever encountered. Yet, something in the back of his mind also picked at him to run. He’d never been good with processing emotions or relationship entanglements. And this was edging on very twisted up complex emotions that could end in his shattered heart. Running sounded easier yet when she was next to him with her hand resting on his arm with so much love shining in her eyes, he couldn’t budge.

“You’ve been hinting that you’re different. I know what I saw in the alley. It was impossible and I keep telling myself I must have been hallucinating. But then I can’t stop wondering. So tell me, Rose, what did I really see? Who are you?”

She inhaled deeply before continuing. “You know how when you’re a kid and your parents read you stories about the big bad wolf, red riding hood, evil witches that devour children, girls locked away in towers, men leading mice away with music and dragons flying through the air? And you loved those stories and how they swept you away to strange wonderful places where kids outwitted the witch and bravery was real and people defeated evil. 

“Even as adults, you still remember those stories and what they meant to you. What you don’t realize though is that every story has roots in something more than imagination. Fairy tales aren’t just a human invention. Sometimes people see things they can’t explain and so they craft these magical tales around them. They have to rationalize what they can’t comprehend.”

“Are you saying I’m building a fairy tale around what I saw in the alley? Really Rose, I’m a scientist. I deal with facts and explaining things in real terms.”

She smiled and patted his arm. “I know. But what I’m talking about is what your science doesn’t know or has dismissed because they haven’t yet found proof. It’s sort of like when all those people were sure the world was flat until suddenly they found out it wasn’t. This world is filled with things you don’t know yet or can’t prove. What is your impossible today may be a proven fact a century from now.”

“And what impossible thing are you saying is real?” he asked.

“Doctor, sometimes the fairy tale lives next door.”

He stared at her worried about what she would say next. Yes she was unusual but he thought her clever and grounded. Thinking back over their conversations, he tried to glean some indication of instability but couldn’t see it. 

“What do you mean?”

“I look pretty normal to you, yeah?”

“Yes, you’re…well you’re beautiful.”

She pulled her sweater up and off over her head. His gaze focused on her black lacy bra and his mouth gaped. The scent of burning infused the air as she leaned into him inhaling his neck.

“My treasure, you are everything to me,” she purred into him.

When she pulled back, he gasped. Her skin shimmered in blues, greens with hints of red, gold and purple, like tattooed scales. The candles flared as if an accelerant was poured on them and a very feral grin graced her face as her eyes deepened into a warm golden colour.

He jumped up and fell over the side of the sofa landing with a thunk on the floor.

“Doctor!” She scrambled to his side.

When he looked up she appeared normal except for a hint of gold flecks in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She helped him up and he leaned against the arm of the sofa. “You…you’re…”

“I’m sort of a dragon.”

“What?” he said his voice pitching up as his widened.

“It’s all right. I know you don’t understand and can’t believe me just yet. See I know you’re your people think of dragons. I’ve seen it on the telly – all huge reptilian, vengeful creatures out to kill and destroy. But we haven’t been that way for millennia. Humans were killing us so we had to evolve and blend into the species that was sort of taking over. Eventually, we pretty much got stuck in this form. There aren’t even many of us left. Most live solitary lives and just disappear.”

“But, but you can’t be! You’re all blonde hair and smiles and you eat fish and chips!” he exclaimed, his mind spinning thinking on one hand she was in need of psychiatric help but on the other hand, she just glowed and had scales. Then he wondered about dinner and if she’d drugged him.

“Doctor, please look at me.”

With his heart pounding and breath coming in quick pants, his gaze focused on her as she pulled her sweater back on. 

“This is real. And I’m not so different from you in some ways. I have a job, work, live in a flat and yes I eat fish and chips. I’m the same Rose you walked through the park with, talked about work and has lunch with today. I’m still the person you said you loved, just with a little biological difference. I love you and nothing will ever change that but I needed you to know the truth.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut before huffing out a breath. “A dragon. My girlfriend is a dragon?”

She nodded, her hands in front of her mouth as she nibbled her thumb nail.

“This can’t be real.” He started to pace, thoughts jumbled and looking for something to ground him. He picked up a tea light and stared into the flame.

“Smoke, you always smelled like smoke.” He snorted. “And I thought it was you smoking cigarettes not fire breathing--” He set the tea light down and scrubbed at his face, his glasses almost falling off. 

“It’s part of my nature. When we get emotional, sometimes we get a little heated up.”

Hands dropping to his side, he shook his head and stared at her. “Dragon…living in a flat in London.” He started pacing again, his gaze surveying the flat. “That why you live in the basement? I mean don’t dragons prefer underground caves and the like? And I can’t believe I just said that.”

“I live here because it’s safe and I like it. And no our kind does not live in caves. We are like you and like our comforts. I like a nice soft bed, running water, electricity and nights in front of the telly. The whole cave thing was a long time ago when you lot were still scrambling around in the dirt building huts.”

He paced and pulled at his hair. “Right, of course. You evolved.” He paused and stared up at the tiny lights on the ceiling. “So you live here like everyone else and no one else knows what you are.”

“No, and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to be chased away. I love London. It’s my home. I know how prejudiced humans are. I’m no threat to anyone.”

“You were in the alley,” he said before she could continue.

“That was different and you know it. They attacked us and were gonna hurt you. I had to stop them. If it had been just them taking my purse or your wallet, I would have let them and stayed hidden, would have let them rough me up a bit even. I’m tough and can take it. But you, I couldn’t let them hurt you and I never would have done more than I did. I hate violence. I just want to live in peace just like anyone else.”

“But you’re a dragon,” he said softly with a hint of disbelief.

“Yeah, I am. I was born this way a long time ago. I can’t change that.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets he stared at his trainers. “No, I don’t suppose you can.”

“Please don’t leave me,” she said with a slight tremble to her voice.

He met her gaze and all he could think about was how vulnerable she looked. It reminded him of the night in the alley and how worried she was. Now he knew it went deeper than that. She’d endangered herself for him, to protect him. But he still couldn’t wrap his mind around everything she’d revealed. His feelings fluctuated between, disbelief, concern, anger, betrayal and a worry he’d lost something precious.

“I need time to think,” he finally admitted. “I just can’t do this right now.”

She nodded her head. “I understand. Just promise me you won’t disappear without talking to me. I meant what I said, I’m in love with you and when dragons love, it consumes them like a raging fire. We don’t’ fall out of love like humans. Love is not fleeting or temporary for us. When we love, we love forever. 

“And if I can’t accept this. What will you do?”

Tears fell down her face, her shoulders slumped and the candles flickered out. “You won’ need to worry about that. You won’t see me again. I couldn’t bear to be around you if you can’t--” Her voice hitched. “I won’t trouble you again.” She looked up. “But please, please know I shall always love you. And take your time but talk to me before you make a decision. Ask me questions. I know you have them. You wouldn’t be the Doctor if you didn’t.”

He nodded and walked toward the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned to her. “Rose, thank you for being honest and I promise we’ll talk more. Just give me some time.”

Sniffling and with smoke curling around her, she agreed. “Time I can give you.”

“I’ll see you later then.”

He closed the door with a soft click behind him. His chest was tight as he stepped into the lift. Without thought he punched the button for the first floor not ready to return to his flat. He couldn’t after such a mind blowing revelation. He’d fallen in love with a dragon.

Head pounding, the cool damp air of the night was a relief. Cars sped by him as he walked down the crowded sidewalks. People walked in and out of pubs, the market and various stores. It was normal and yet his world was the farthest thing from normal.

Buildings stretched skyward and clouds covered the stars. Dragons were real and living in the city. He paused and looked around him. Anyone walking down the street could be like Rose and he’d never know. He quickened his pace, turmoil churning away in his stomach. Her tear stained face was imprinted on his mind. She loved him and he knew that was a fact. His own feelings for her were a jumble.

Love was mixed in there somewhere. If he didn’t love her he wouldn’t be feeling so at odds with himself and her. He breathed in the scent of car fumes mixed with perfume from a shop he passed and tried to let his mind relax. Focusing on walking and trainers slapping against the pavement, he cleared his muddled mind. Soon he found himself at the university, his sanctuary of sorts. He passed several students and stopped to watch them hold hands, laugh and hug.

He remembered what she said about prejudice and how the human world was ever changing, accepting that the world was not just black and white but multifaceted filled with a variety of people, cultures and how they all intertwined. People were people no matter where they were from or what their beliefs. Humanity was ever so slowly learning to accept themselves no matter of faith or culture. People loved who they loved and nothing else mattered.

Were he and Rose so different? It was the similarities in interests and thoughts that drew him to her. He fell in love with her because she was unique, fascinating and his heart knew what his mind couldn’t quite fathom. Love was intangible. Yet he as a scientist accepted it without physical proof. He was in love with Rose Tyler.

He walked further along, the crowds thinning as he approached his office building. He needed to work through this, do research into the history of her species. It was his way of working through things. Research he knew. He loved diving into a mystery to solve. Not that Rose was a mystery any more. But in a way she was even more so now. Her explanation raised so many new and intriguing theories in his mind. 

He stopped under a street light. But did she see him only as a treasure she collected? Her voice whispered in the back of his mind -- she loved him and dragons don’t love like humans. So much passion and love laced her voice. He let out a slow breath and then smiled. Wilf would love this. With that thought in mind he stepped into the street only to have headlights flash and a car speed forward. 

He jumped out of the way, tripping and falling to the pavement. As he raised his head, something stung his neck. He reached up and pulled out a tiny dart. The blurred face of tall blonde man in a suit loomed over him as blackness consumed him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should put a warning on this chapter. The Master is not a nice character and says a lot of slightly salacious and evil things to the Doctor who is bound and at his mercy. So if Evil Master is not your thing, you might not like the end of this chapter. Next chapter will be a violent confrontation wherein Rose kicks arse. So it does get better ;)

As the night crawled toward dawn, the creaks and groans of the building mimicked the misery twisting inside of Rose. Her skin burned with fear and uncertainty. Squeezing her eyes shut, she could still see the disbelief and mistrust reflected in the Doctor’s eyes. 

She expected him to react with scepticism and question her mental state. But she hoped his natural scientific curiosity would intervene before he allowed fear or mistrust to guide his actions. His pacing and hair tugging indicated his inner conflict but she couldn’t be sure if that conflict was due to an inability to accept the truth or if it ran more toward revulsion at the differences between them. 

As he left, she thought she caught a glimpse of something that gave her hope, a hesitancy in how he left as if he wanted to stay and ask more questions. But he was human and humans didn’t accept change easily. It sometimes took them decades to absorb new concepts, and changes in the world around them.

Thus she lay curled up with hot tears trailing down her face as she lingered in her own pit of doubt and heartache. She loved him and she hadn’t exaggerated when she said a dragon loved with a fierce intensity. Her father’s voice from long ago, growling with passion as he recounted his tale of loving her mother echoed in her thoughts. 

Her parents’ first encounter involved her father lying on the ground in the woods surrounded by bandits beating him while he attempted to repress his instincts to tear them apart. Her mother, an eighteen year old farmer’s daughter, had been in the forest with her younger sisters gathering herbs and berries. When she heard shouting, she crept closer and saw a rugged woodman being assaulted. His gaze landed on her hiding in the brush and he shook his head, his eyes pleading for her to run. 

Rose’s mother had never run from any challenge. With her sisters hiding in the bushes watching, she stormed up to the bandits, screaming and swinging an axe threatening to hack them to pieces. The thieves fled. Peter Tyler stood up towering over the petite blonde who by that time had her hands on her hips and glared at him. Even though the spirited girl hurled insults at him for being foolish wandering in the woods unarmed, he was captivated by her.

His eyes would mist up as he talked about his beloved Jacqueline with her fiery personality and bravery that left him smouldering. From the moment she came to his rescue, his fate was sealed. After she left, he couldn’t stop thinking about her and followed her scent to a nearby village where he spent the next few days attempting to woo her. 

At first, she rebuffed him but he was determined. Well-spoken and unafraid to talk to her about his love, he treated her with respect and reverence. He was different from other men in her village and soon her heart softened toward him. Unfortunately, her family didn’t appreciate his grand gestures of delivering fresh venison or baskets filled with apples which he may have borrowed by less than legal means.

There was shouting, pitchforks and a threat to feed him piece by piece to the village dogs. Despite her ordering him away to save his life and much shouting about daft woodsmen, he couldn’t leave Jacqueline. Under the cover of a thick mist, he stole her away to the woods and revealed himself. 

Rose wasn’t sure exactly how that conversation played out except for how her father’s eyes glazed over and his cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat to tell her they lived happily ever after – mostly. Rose swallowed hard as she thought about her parents. She never doubted their love. But they were gone now and she had to make her own way.

Pressing her cheek into the cool leather of the sofa, she sighed. An image of her Doctor once again dominated her thoughts and the flames of the candles around her flat flared to life. A smile quirked her face when she thought back to when she first met her lean, quirky Doctor – her treasure. He’d been adorable in his awkwardness and his eyes had set her heart pounding. Everything about him from his smile to his babbling and his quick wit caused a spark to flare in her. She’d never felt so tingly and alive.

Their laundry encounter had been calculated on her part. His scent, caramel-spice with a hint of sandalwood was unmistakable. Suddenly washing clothes seemed less like a chore and she quickly tossed items in a basket and made her way to the laundry room. Sparks flew once again and their date was beyond what she could imagine. But then he’d been hurt. 

Her inner dragon, the ancient and snarling beast within couldn’t be contained. She’d never lost control like that before, not even when she was younger. Her father once mentioned that deep within them lay a dangerous and cunning heritage, the remains of a time when their kind dominated this world by air, sea and land. It clawed its way out past a millennia of evolutionary changes meant to hide their true nature. It was as the humans said, you can invite the wolf into your home, feed it, treat as family but at its heart, it was still a wolf and couldn’t deny its nature. Attack its pack, harm its young or invade its territory and it will defend itself with teeth and claws.

It took every fibre of her self-control to repress the full fury of a dragon growling to be unleashed on the criminals that harmed her beloved, her most prized treasure. It frightened her -- how easily it happened but then one look at the Doctor and everything changed. She knew then she would do anything to win his heart and to give him everything of herself.

And that was the crux of her problem. Eventually she had to tell him the truth so he would understand what her love meant and the ultimate ramifications to him of loving a dragon. She hadn’t even gotten to that part before he left. Her stomach twisted and rumbled as the morning approached. She didn’t want to eat but perhaps a walk would do her good. The Doctor was more than likely out walking whilst his mind raced over all that happened between them. Losing herself in the pulsing life of the city instead of languishing in the misery of self-doubt seemed the best plan. 

Grabbing her leather coat, her hand bumped the mobile tucked away in a pocket. Pulling it out, she stared down at the screen with a picture of their converses, his white next to her pink. He had playfully taken the photo during their second date. As her fingers curled around the shiny white phone, it nearly melted in her hand as her emotions erupted. 

Eyes stinging from tears, she mentally willed him to call her so she could at least know he was still thinking about her and not how best to run away. With a shaky inhale, she shoved the mobile back in her pocket and fled into the lift.

A gust of petrol fumes greeted her as she exited the building. It snapped her out of her misery. People walked by clutching their coffees as they stared down at their mobiles. The morning air was damp with a slight chill as a bus groaned to a stop down the street. Life flowed around her as it had every other day. Only the prior day she’d felt lighter and more a part of this world. That was the difference the Doctor made. He helped her connect to the human world in a way she found difficult on her own.

With little thought as to direction, she stepped into the stream of people merging into the crowd of morning commuters. Focusing on the sights and sounds of the city, she walked aimlessly trying not to think about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. Not even the scent of roasted coffee from her favourite shop diverted her. She continued forward tugging her leather coat around her, armour against the potential heartbreak that may await her. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that in her hour of need, a familiar dark green news stand appeared.

A bright smile sprang onto Wilf’s face. “Rose! Good Morning!”

Despite her insides feeling as if they had turned to ash, a warmth lit her eyes at the sight of Wilf. Upon meeting him, she’d immediately felt a kinship to her elderly neighbour. Few humans possessed that spark of light and wisdom that Wilf wore with ease. He reminded her of the Doctor in many ways and perhaps that’s why the two were such good friends and why she fit into their intimate friendship without feeling like an intruder.

As she grew closer to the Doctor, so had she with Wilf. His love of history, keen observations of human nature and philosophical insights caused her to develop protective feelings for him. He was important and she decided during one of their morning chats that she would watch over him for the rest of his life. She normally avoided attaching herself to most humans, preferring a certain distance given how fragile and ephemeral they were. But she couldn’t do that with Wilf. Even if her beloved turned her away, she would watch over his friend and take comfort in his friendship.

“Morning, Wilf.” Her voice lacked its typical energy and her eyes turned down accentuating the dark circles beneath.

His face fell. “Something’s wrong.”

She shrugged and turned toward a rack of magazines, running her fingers over a glossy image of a woman wearing the latest purple knit fashion.

“It’s the Doctor, isn’t it?”

Her shoulders tensed and she squeezed her eyes shut attempting to swallow down the lump in her throat.

Wilf sighed and stepped toward her resting a hand on her arm. She looked down at his fingerless knit gloves and rested her much warmer hand on his cool fingers. 

“He loves you. No matter what is going on, you need to know that. I see it in how he smiles and his eyes light up when I mention your name.”

Rose lifted her head and smiled. A chilly wind fluttered news pages and she reached over tucking his scarf around him.

“Sometimes that’s not enough.” Her voice caught and she bit her lip as he watched her. “Sometimes people are so different they can’t make it work.”

He squeezed her upper arm in reassurance. “Yes but sometimes that’s what makes for a stronger match. My wife, Eileen, and I were from very different worlds. I met her during the war. She was a code breaker, you see.”

He paused as his eyes glowed with love. “Oh but she was brilliant and smart, much more intelligent than most of those running the war. And there I was this young serviceman, brash, quit school to join the RAF before I was even legal to enlist. She shouldn’t have looked twice at me and maybe that’s what drew us together. 

“We challenged each other and every day was an adventure learning more about who we were and the world around us. She taught me things I didn’t know I needed to learn and I helped show her how she could be so much more. We loved each other deeply and irrevocably until the day I lost her three years ago.”

His voice trembled slightly as he spoke of his wife and Rose could see the love and loss reflected in the way he flexed his hand as if he expected another hand to clasp his. Emotions welled up and she felt her eyes sting with tears. In that moment she saw everything she wanted reflected in this man who still mourned his beloved wife.

He collected himself as the screeching sound of breaks sounded nearby. “The Doctor is good at running away when he feels people getting too close. And you, young lady, are good at hiding and never letting people get to know you. Impossible, the two of you are! But together, something magical happens.”

Rose pulled Wilf into her arms and hugged him tight as she felt the icy doubt and worry melt away. He chuckled and patted her on her back.

When she pulled away, he stared into her eyes a few moments before continuing. “He’d be so cross with me, you know. Here’s me making time with his Rose while he’s off pouting somewhere.”

Rose arched a brow at this comment. “So you talked to him this morning?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning. I thought he was with you.” Wilf suggested with slightest bit of innuendo.

Rose’s brow furrowed and she rubbed her temples as her mind raced, worried that her Doctor had disappeared despite his promise to talk to her first. “No, he left after dinner last night. He said he needed to walk and clear his mind.” 

Wilf hummed. “I don’t think he made it home. I was watching that investigative show, Myths and Monsters, and we usually have a debate over the rubbish science in it. I sent him a few texts last night and he never responded. I’d hoped it was because you and he were…”

Rose’s head snapped around toward him. “He never responded to you?”

Wilf stilled and ran his fingers over his beard. “No, and he didn’t show up for tea this morning.”

Rose began to pace, her skin heating and senses tingling as her true nature fought its way to the surface. When Wilf responded that he had not heard nor seen the Doctor, he hesitated with the slightest inflection indicating his concern.

“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” Wilf quickly assured. “You know how he is, loses track of time and gets all caught up in his work. I’ll bet he’s holed up in his office immersed in some project.”

Wilf didn’t sound convinced. Rose dug her nails into her palms and her jaw clenched as her prior anxiety about her relationship with the Doctor metamorphosed into a completely different concern. Flashbacks of the attack in the alley manifested her protective instincts. When she turned back to Wilf, she was a very different Rose from the one that arrived a few minutes earlier.

He stared at her for a moment before nodding his head. “Go on Sweetheart, do what you have to.”

With eyes glimmering with sparks of golden fire, Rose nodded, quickly walking away from Wilf who whispered in an awe filled voice, “I knew it.”

The crowds parted before her without realizing why. A slight smile emerged, softening the hard planes of her face as she strode forward. She revelled in the power pulsing in her veins as the air crackled around her like a storm about to unleash its fury. If any of the pedestrians walking beside her had paused to pay her attention, they might have seen wisps of smoke swirling about her; and a feral, dangerous look in her not quite human eyes along with a hint of a snarl on her face as she stopped for traffic.

She exemplified what she had explained to the Doctor the prior night. Her kind blended into the human population but her appearance was a deception. Walking amongst the humans was a deadly creature of myth and legend capable of unleashing an ancient power not seen on the planet for millennia. 

Rose knew this city better than anyone. She knew its secrets, its wicked and deadly past and knew how to end it if necessary. It was her love of this place that kept it safe. Those that called London home didn’t know how many times it could have been destroyed and how many times her kind was there to stop it. Many wars were fought over this land, had scarred it and its people but never destroyed the heart of this place. There was a reason it stayed safe but the people never seemed to realize it. The current reason was now storming toward London University and nothing would stand in her way. 

When she reached the outskirts of the campus, she rang the Doctor. Her call went straight to voice mail. Pausing on a sidewalk, she scanned the area around her with eyes that could see the ebb and flow of life. The hum and mechanical grind of motors behind her faded as she focused on voices, the flutter of the wings as birds nestled in some trees and pounding footsteps as a student late for class dashed toward his destination. 

With measured steps she walked across the campus, noting each impression in the grass, any odd scent or object that did not belong. A student bumped into her and stopped his face paling as he met her unearthly gaze. Smoke curled around her and she stepped closer to the young t-shirt wearing student clinging to his backpack. Sweat beaded his face and his eyes widened as adrenalin pulsed through him from a long buried instinct detecting the nearing danger.

“I need the Physics Department. I’m looking for Dr. McCrimmon,” she commanded in a growling voice as a breeze tugged at her hair almost glowing with the power pulsing just beneath her skin.

The student trembled and pointed.

“Thanks,” Rose acknowledged and nodded her head. “You can go now.”

The student ran away never looking back. Rose smirked. “Still got it.”

Reinvigorated, with determination in her step and predatory expression on her face, she continued forward. She stopped before a street in front of the physics building, an art deco, grey stone building stretching upward four stories. Just as her boot met the pavement, she hesitated, her nostrils flaring.

Curses slipped past her lips as she caught a sickly sweet odour masking an older scent of decay. It was a putrid mix of mold and leather that could only be one thing – another of her kind and in her London. Her skin heated and the air around her shimmered in reaction. Few though they may be, dragons had certain understandings. There was an accepted code of conduct that included respecting territories and property, as well as observing propriety about announcing one’s presence. 

This intruder violated those rules. Venturing into her city without observing social niceties could only mean one thing – aggression and a potential rival for her territory.

A street light near her exploded, raining glass down onto the street as her temper flared. This changed everything. Concern for her treasure grew exponentially. Her eyes narrowed as she examined the area for any other signs of her rival. Chest rumbling with a growl that would have brought goose bumps to any humans that might have heard it, she knelt down to examine the pavement.

Pupils contracted as she sniffed and ran the pads of her fingers over the coarse surface, her senses prickled with more evidence a dragon was near. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a button she recognized. It belonged to a familiar brown pinstriped suit.

Her skin burned as her mind raced and fury erupted as she shot up from the pavement. Some rival had stolen her treasure. A new fire lit inside of her, one not born of love but of anger, a need to punish and retrieve what was stolen from her. With a new focus, she unfurled her inner dragon, inhaling the scents of the city and raising her palms skyward as she called out to ancient elemental forces. 

The sky rumbled its answer as grey clouds brewed and the wind bellowed across the city. She inhaled again and her eyes narrowed at the scent as she followed it toward her new prey. Cars screeched to a halt as she crossed roads, their horns blaring and people shouted. But once they saw her, their voices quieted, they turned away and ran from her piercing gaze and the power rippling the air around her. Even dogs cowered and scurried away to escape the path of a dragon hell bent on vengeance. If there was one universal truth, it was nothing angered dragons more than having their treasure stolen…

dwdwdwdwdwdw

With head pounding and a mouth that felt like cotton, the Doctor’s first indication something was off was the sound of a crackling fire. He didn’t have a fireplace in his flat or his office. It confused his still half asleep mind. As he fought his way to consciousness, he winced at the odd taste in his mouth. Smacking his tongue he decided it wasn’t from a night out drinking and had no idea why he felt so horrible. He wiggled around in an attempt to stretch his tangled limbs and get a better perspective of where he was.

Something was wrong -- he couldn’t move his legs and something bound his wrists. His eyes flew open and then he blinked against the bright light in the room. Squinting as his vision adjusted, the beige walls and elaborate crown moulding confirmed he was not at home. Attempting to wipe at his eyes, it became clear his wrists were indeed bound and with red braided cording. 

The pungent scent of burning tobacco caused him to pause. The sound of a breath being released drew his attention to a sitting area where a man dressed in a tailored navy suit sat in an ornate velvet chair. Smoke floated upward around him as he tapped out a cigarette on a porcelain saucer. 

“Hello, Treasure.”

At the gravelly voiced comment, the Doctor jerked up and winced as the room spun and his stomach lurched. With eyes squeezed tight, his mind raced over the possibilities as to where he was and who the poshly suited blond man was. And why did he use Rose’s pet name for him?

A memory of a dart and a man in suit pierced the fog of his mind and his eyes fluttered open.

A cold smile emerged on the stranger’s face as he watched the Doctor struggle to find his balance.

“Do take care. You’re kind is a bit fragile and it would be a pity if I broke you so soon.” His voice had a rough purring quality to it as his gaze travelled across the Doctor’s prone form. “My last treasure broke too easily. I barely got a chance to enjoy her – only a few measly years of fun before she shattered. Such a pity.”

The Doctor stilled in response. He attempted to sit upright in a more dignified fashion but found that a challenge with his ankles as well as his wrists bound.

The man laughed in a rough, course way that indicated less happy amusement and more sadistic pleasure.

“Dr. James McCrimmon, that’s what they call you at the university – their most eminent and highly regarded professor. Of course, you’re also known as a bit eccentric so I doubt anyone will miss you. They don’t even fully appreciate how special you are. But I do.”

His eyes took on a wild almost insane light. “Yes, I can see how valuable you are with that brilliant mind, sparkling eyes and glow of untouched innocence within you. You are just so tasty.”

The Doctor flinched as the man licked his lips.

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what sort of perverted game you’re playing at but I’m not interested. And I will be missed so unless you want…”

“Oh I want – I want it all!” he crowed and stood up stepping closer to the Doctor who darted a few looks around seeking an escape from the madman.

His captor leaned into him and the Doctor squirmed back away. 

“And don’t pretend you don’t know who and what I am.”

“No, I really don’t,” the Doctor replied, heart hammering away in his chest worrying about what would happen next and oddly, thinking of Rose, how he’d left things with her and how much he wished he hadn’t left her the way he did. And then it clicked. Rose, his dragon girlfriend, called him her treasure. His eyes widened as he sniffed the air catching a familiar scent. 

The man leaned back howling in laughter before raising his hands in the. “He gets it! Ha! I knew you were clever and so worth the effort of hunting you.”

“You’re a dragon like--” He didn’t finish the sentence afraid of revealing too much about Rose. His blood ran cold and a sense of dread cut through him as he observed what he now knew was not a man but something dangerous and powerful. This dragon was nothing like his Rose.

“Oh yes I am,” he drawled. Stepping closer he continued. “Some of your kind call me Saxon.”

The Doctor’s brow furrowed. “The Saxon endowment? You were at the school.” His voice quieted as he thought back to the fires. It all made sense now. The only reason he hadn’t met Saxon was…Rose. Something inside him trembled at the thought of this monster near his Rose. 

Heat washed over the Doctor as Saxon neared. And he coughed when he was overwhelmed by the smell of smoke. 

Saxon smirked as he ran his fingers through his captive’s sleep tousled hair.

The Doctor yanked his head away but not before his dragon captor yanked a few hairs out.

“Careful, Treasure. As I said, you break so easily and I have plans for you.” He patted the Doctor’s cheek. “We would have sorted this days ago if you hadn’t run off to that annoying, little gecko who is so rubbish at protecting what’s hers.” He turned and walked over to the floor to ceiling windows looking out over the London skyline.

“Yes, I know all about her and her pathetic emotional attachment to this city. She’s spent so much time around your kind, it’s made her weak.”

He turned in a grand gesture, allowing his inner beast reign over his physical state. The Doctor’s mouth gaped and he pressed back into the lounge chair as he watched this dragon reveal himself. Saxon’s eyes were almost entirely black as his lips peeled back in a grotesque snarl. Blonde hair reflected the green glow of scales shimmering beneath his skin. Smoke streamed out of his nose and his voice deepened as he seemed to grow taller and wider popping the buttons on his light blue dress shirt.

He towered over the Doctor and a deep growl rumbled in his chest.

“There is a new Master of this city and he will not be swayed by the pitiful humans that reside here.”

The Doctor was in awe at the creature before him as his inner scientist catalogued every detail o his appearance. Another part of him was terrified. This was the power Rose kept tightly in control. As a slight tremble shook through him, he realized monster was never a word he would use to describe Rose. She cared about the city, the people and him. Where in her eyes, he saw love, in this creature he saw only hate and death. He never should have left Rose.

Saxon stepped forward as a nearby chair burst into flames and leaned over the Doctor. “My pure, innocent treasure, we are going to have such fun. We’re gonna set this town on fire!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off let me warn you that this is Master heavy and he is not a nice guy errr dragon. He covets what he treasures and not in a pure way so yeah, there will be moments of putting the Doctor in an uncomfortable position. There is forced disrobing and tight leather trousers along with commentary about sex. So if this bothers you, this may not be something you want to read. PM me if you have questions.
> 
> That being said, those are not the dominant moments of this chapter. There is a lot of BAMF Rose, dragon snark, uncertain Doctor and some crack.
> 
> I fully acknowledge this is over the top and I have made use of some dialog from The Hobbit as well as dragon snark from ask.metafilter.com/203590/Not-wise-but-fun-mocking-dragons
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this one all who are brave enough to dive into this chapter :)

Face smeared in a thin layer of soot, the Doctor sat on the floor leaning against the now singed lounge chair. Music thrummed through the room – _Burning Down the House_. Saxon, back in his more human form, gyrated his hips to the beat of the song. A fire still smouldered on a nearby chair. One of Saxon’s assistants beat at the charred remains with a towel. Another assistant ripped down curtains and stomped more flames out. 

The Doctor thumped his head back against the chair thinking about the mad dragon holding him prisoner. This was bad, not just for him, but for Rose and London. He had no doubt this dragon would rain terror down on everyone. This thought was soon proven as Saxon’s assistants burst into flames.

They ran out of the room screaming.

Saxon snickered as they fled. “That’s what I’m talking about! You smell that, Treasure? That’s fear!”

“All I smell is ash and destruction,” the Doctor answered in a toneless voice.

“Exactly!” Saxon exclaimed pointing a finger at him. He walked over and sniffed. “You look a bit tarnished and smell like one of those humans that’s been tossed aside by their own kind. They were easier prey than you.”

The Doctor felt his bindings bite into the skin of his wrists as he watched Saxon preen over that comment. He had to escape and warn the authorities. Then again, who would believe him?

He was jarred back to reality when Saxon scrubbed at his face with a white handkerchief. “Right, let’s get you spiffied up.”

“Oi! That’s enough!” The Doctor thrashed his head and tried to squirm away as the cloth was roughly rubbed across his cheek. Saxon gleefully ignored him as he muttered in a sing song voice: “This is the way we wash our face, wash our face, wash our face, this is the way we wash our face for our Dragon Master!”

Saxon stood back and admired his work. “Better but you still need a bit of polish.” A smile lit his face and he spun around before his eyes lit on shopping bags tossed in a corner.

The Doctor rubbed his bound hands on his face and eyed the front entrance.

Clothes were dumped on top of him. “Only the best for my treasure.”

The Doctor stared at black leather trousers and a black silk dress shirt. “Are you kidding me?”

Saxon strolled over with a touch of swagger and leaned into him, his hot breath ripe with the scent of smoke. The Doctor pulled away as he found his gaze locked with that of black dragon eyes. “You are mine, my treasure, to do with as I please. And it pleases me to have you looking less scrawny, pale, hairless ape and more…” He chuckled. “The coveted property of the most powerful dragon in not just London but this entire world.”

He drew his scorching finger down the Doctor’s neck, until he reached his tied which blackened at his touch. With a rip, he yanked at the pale blue fabric of the dress shirt. Buttons went flying as the Doctor’s undershirt was revealed.

“Now then, we can do this the hard way which might leave a few unsightly marks or you can be a good treasure and please your new master.” 

The Doctor shoved his bound hands at Saxon’s chest. “You’ll have to untie me first,” he said with a edge in his voice and tilting his chin up, refusing to be intimidated.

“I like you,” Saxon responded as he burned the bindings off the Doctor’s wrists and ankles. 

Under the intense and uncomfortable observation of Saxon, the Doctor scooped up his new wardrobe, wrinkling his nose in distaste. Leather wasn’t exactly his style and he didn’t relish changing in front of his captor. It was un-nerving the way the dragon watched him in some sort of perverted obsession. Again, his thoughts turned to Rose and how different she treated him. With her, he’d felt a warmth and affection. But with Saxon…

“Go on, Treasure. Pretty yourself up for me.”

Worried about the repercussions if he didn’t comply, the Doctor turned, facing away from Saxon and removed his clothes with a measured precision, neatly stacking each item on a table nearby. As he removed his trainers and trousers, he caught site of a puff of smoke and smelled burning tobacco. Unsettled, he decided to distract the dragon whilst he changed.

“Why me?”

“Why you?” Saxon growled before blowing out more smoke. “Because you’re pretty, all shiny and innocent and…you smell delicious.” He drew out his words and inflected each syllable with a purring sound.

The Doctor paused as he held up the leather trousers realizing they would be so tight they wouldn’t fit over his boxer shorts. Heat flushed his cheeks as he realized what he needed to do. 

“What do you mean?” he asked as he discarded his under pants. Wincing and grunting, he struggled trying to pull on the skin tight trousers.

“Oh you know what I mean, Treasure. You can’t hide it from my kind the way you do with those clueless humans. Nothing is more rare and coveted as a pure, untouched sentient creature and you--” He moaned as his gaze lingered on the Doctor’s bare bum. “You are as pretty and bright as that gorgeous ripe, arse which I can’t wait to--”

The Doctor jumped up and down tugging at the trousers hoping to squeeze himself into the impossible leather as quickly as possible. “Wait! You mean you can tell that I haven’t…that is to say that I’m not presently involved in intimate--”

“That you haven’t dipped your wick.” Saxon finished for him. “Indulged in carnal pleasure,” he drawled out and chuckled, tapping out his cigarette on a nearby surface. “Yes, my senses are that keen and humans tend to have certain pungent odours that reveal their hormonally driven penchant for breeding. Those that resist the urge to mate are like caviar amongst the swine.”

The Doctor buttoned up the black silk shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons as he absorbed this information. His stomach clenched at the husky way his captor spoke to him and he again thought of Rose.

Saxon seemed to pick up on his introspection and startled the Doctor when he leaned into his ear.

“Of course the little blonde skink knows.” 

The Doctor felt the warm graze of Saxons nostrils along his neck.

“Why do you think she pursued you? It wasn’t for your sense of style.”

The Doctor’s brown pinstripe suit burst into flames.

Saxon walked over to the fire running his hands through the orange flickering flames. “To be blunt, dragons like to collect things. Unique things, precious things like gems, gold or unique one of a kind items like a human male in his prime yet untarnished by his more prurient nature are treasure. Adult virgins are so rare to come by now. In the old days, it was easy to make a rampaging run on a village and sweep up a claw full of young men and women just ripe and ready to be plucked.”

Swallowing hard , the Doctor trembled ever so slightly. This was far worse than he originally thought and even more embarrassing. How many times had he almost let go and indulged his baser desires. It would have been so easy and the opportunities were numerous -- except he was waiting for the perfect moment and the perfect woman. Well and as Wilf said, he was running away from emotional entanglements. Sex was messy no matter how you looked at it. Be it the next morning after a one night stand or allowing himself to become attached and putting his heart at risk, it all equated to him having to deal with the consequences. And now he was trapped in the most tangled consequences of his life.

Saxon licked his burning fingers, his eyes closed as he relished the taste before directing a lingering look at the Doctor. “Don’t worry Treasure, I’ll tarnish you good and proper.” He walked over and pressed his nose against the Doctor’s neck as the Doctor flinched away.

“We do things right and we can stretch it out – take a leisurely stroll through your virtue almost like watching a spring forest slowly burn into a blackened husk.”

A grating and blaring sound echoed outside the suite interrupting Saxon. He whipped around, his jaw clenched and glared at the entryway. Intense heat enveloped the Doctor knocking the breath out of him as he stumbled away from his captor. Saxon stepped toward the double door entrance, focused and with smoke curling around him in a grey tendrils. The light fixtures exploded raining sparks across massive room. 

“The little scale-less, human loving eel is here.”

“Rose.” The Doctor breathed her name and looked up, his eyes wide with fear and hope. 

Saxon tossed off his jacket and stretched his arms out. Muscles and joints popped as more smoke streamed out his nose. A guttural growl sounded as all his focus was on the doors.

The building shook and the Doctor heard the pop and crash of metal and concrete. The air was thick with tension. Suddenly everything quieted.

“Come on you worm eaten reptilian bitch!” Saxon shouted in a guttural voice.

What happened next seemed to progress in slow motion. The doors curved inward, metal glowed and melted as the Doctor felt pressure pressing against his chest. He fell to his knees with his hands covering his ears just as an explosion hurled burning splinters of wood into the room. Coughing and gagging, the Doctor looked up and saw Rose standing amidst the burning rubble.

Her eyes were like dark brown pools of burning fire and her skin glowed with iridescent blue, green and golden scales just like it had the night in the alley. But it wasn’t the same. That night, she still maintained control, her actions measured and restrained. As she stood with her golden hair reflecting her dragon nature, her black coat covered in dust and debris, she held nothing back.

She narrowed her eyes on Saxon and a very dragon-like snarl contorted her features.

“I’ve come for my treasure!”

“You mean my treasure,” he said in hard tone, green scales shimmering across his face.

“Don’t test me, dragon. These are my lands and everything on them including the Doctor is under my protection. You are not welcome here.”

Saxon laughed his chest shaking with a cacophony of harsh growling which raised goose-bumps on the Doctor’s arms as he crouched near a singed sofa. Panting and gasping as he covered his mouth from the stench of smoke, he couldn’t stop glancing back and forth between the two dragons.

Rose reminded him of a picture he’d seen of a Chinese dragon, lithe with long graceful movements and scales flowing like water shining with an iridescence to them. But like the Chinese dragon, she radiated strength and wisdom with eyes that promised this dragon as beautiful as it may be, still had teeth. 

A howling roar shook the room as Saxon held out his arms, fires bursting forth from chairs, curtains, tables and the Persian rug he stood upon.

“You, some feeble little mud puppy scurrying around in human filth, think you can command me?” he howled, as his chest puffed up and he gestured with hands that appeared more claw like. “I was a king on this miserable world before you were even a thought. I laid low those spear throwing apes, dined on the ashes of their terror and burned my name across this land. All is mine to do with as I please. I am fire! I am death and all shall bow before me!”!

Fires flared and the windows shattered and exploded outward.  
Rose crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, eyeing him. “You done?”

Her lack of fear and challenging tilt of her chin caused Saxon’s green scales to shimmer brighter beneath his skin. His nostrils flared as a circle of fire lit up around him. With a hiss of his breath, a line of fire shot forward toward her.

She held out her hand and the flames flared once before diminishing down to smoking embers of carpet.

“That was your last chance, old one. These aren’t the old days when you stomped and snorted around demanding tribute. Cheap tricks might have earned you few meals then but this is the twenty first century and you’re in my city.”

The Doctor shivered at the low husky quality in her voice. Something about the rigid stance of her posture and the unrelenting stare she directed at Saxon left him exhilarated and a little frightened at the same time. 

As the stand-off between the two dragons continued, another wave of heat filled the room. Heart pounding as he leaned against the nearby sofa, every fibre of him screamed to run but he was too mesmerized by the battle before him . His tensed as something in the air shifted and the room was permeated by a tang of burning metal. Saxon seemed to puff up his chest and huffed out smoke as Rose smirked in response.

“What are you waiting for? Gonna huff and puff all day or are you ready to slither out of town like the spineless, sewer snake you are?” she taunted.

“Bring it on you hapless slime eel!” He glanced at the Doctor. “I’m going to enjoy fucking my treasure across your scorched bones.”

Glowing embers danced across Rose’s body like tiny fireflies until finally igniting into firestorm of golden flames crowning her hair. Like the goddess Pele stepping down from her mountain ready to exact her wrath on all those who defied her, she extended her hand palm turned upward. Flames converged and swirled together forming a fireball.

“Wrong answer,” she growled.

She hurled the fireball at Saxon who batted it toward a painting of the Great Fire of London bringing the art to life. Rose continued with a barrage of fireballs. A few caught his clothes on fire which he batted out with a snarl. Most he thrust back at her. The flames washed over her but left no mark. 

After the last fireball was batted toward the Doctor who quickly ducked out of the way, Saxon stomped forward. “Play time is over.” Arms held wide he screamed an ear piercing noise that left the Doctor writhing on the floor. Vibrations shook the room as a whirlwind of hot air flung burning furniture toward Rose.

The Doctor gasped her name as he watched Rose move with elegance, dancing and ducking around the burning objects. She tumbled and vaulted over the larger missiles until she was only feet away from Saxon.

“No,” he said in a cutting, guttural voice as she leapt forward, her fist impacting his jaw with a satisfying thwack. He head butted her in response until the two were a blur, fists punching, claw like hands raking and ripping at each other and teeth snapping. 

The Doctor winced as Saxon threw Rose backwards against a wall. It tore through him watching how the aggressive dragon ripped into her and he instinctually moved forward to help. But Rose used the impact to vault forward at Saxon causing him to stumble backwards.

The two continued to pummel and batter each other as fire raced across the ceiling of the suite, pieces of it raining down around them. Conflict raged within the Doctor. The doors were open. He should run but that would mean leaving Rose to deal with Saxon by herself. How could he leave her to that monster? And yet what could he do? He was human and no match for their kind.

Their kind…that thought reminded him of the differences between him and Rose. Questions pounded inside his head. Was she really so different than Saxon? Was he just a treasure and nothing more? Did she love him as she professed? Was any of this real or just a nightmare and he would wake up amidst some failed experiment in his lab? The skin on his hand sizzled as a burning ember landed on it.

With a shout and shaking the burning material off, he couldn’t deny his reality. Skin beading with perspiration from heat and fear, he turned his gaze back to the dragons. Pinned by Rose’s fiery look, the chaos around him ebbed. “Run,” she said before turning her attention back to Saxon.

He covered his head as more burning debris fell from above and the building creaked and groaned. A breeze blew in from the shattered window and he heard sirens blaring from outside. And yet all he could do was focus on the look in Rose’s eyes. It wasn’t the same crazed obsession of Saxon. 

He realized in that moment that even if this was all nothing but some biological driven need for Rose to possess him for his virtuous state, he would not leave her. Maybe it was ego and some need to prove he was more than some dragon’s prize. Or maybe it was the first time in his life he was ready to commit his heart. He felt the irony of this moment. All his life he’d waited for someone special and now he finally found love with a woman so special she belonged to an entirely different species. He’d always itched to explore the unknown or dive into uncharted territory. And what was more wildly uncharted than dating a dragon?

Running his damp palms over his leather trousers he winced as he tried to move. Cursing Saxon for his perverted fashion sense, he tugged and shifted the trousers as he planned his next move. Darting amidst burning chairs, ceiling and bits of wood, he plucked up a fireplace poker. With a single purpose in mind, he approached the two dragons struggling on the floor. Last time in the alley, Rose had taken on all the burden of defending him. Now it was his turn to help her.

As with many of his plans, it didn’t exactly work out as he envisioned. He stood ready with the black wrought iron fire poker as the dragons tore into each other. Before he could swing at Saxon, the dragon leapt up, plucked the weapon from him and hurled it across the room. Suddenly instead of hero, the Doctor found himself once again the victim as Saxon, covered in blood, banded an arm around his waist using him as a shield from Rose.

Breathing heavy with blood trickling down her temple, Rose stood up, eyes focused on the Doctor and Saxon.

“I win,” Saxon growled. 

Rose shook with rage, fingernails biting into her palms as fire roared up behind her.

Saxon chuckled, tightening his grip around the Doctor as he nipped at his captive’s ear. The Doctor swallowed convulsively, his gaze glued on Rose.

“Mmm my treasure,” Saxon purred and licked up the Doctor’s neck.

Shuddering in revulsion, the Doctor knew in that moment, it was down to him. Rose would never attack with him in the way. He could see her holding back and shaking with fury. 

Saxon would kill him. Whether it be now or slowly over time, there was no doubt he would die. He was done being a victim.

As Saxon growled in his ear, the Doctor stilled, his mind made up.

“No, I’m not you’re treasure!” With all of his strength, he elbowed Saxon in the gut and wrapped his foot around Saxon’s leg shoving him off balance.

Howling with rage, Saxon cursed and spat as he grabbed the Doctor and slammed him to the floor. With guttural mutterings about disobedient mortals, he began kicking him. The Doctor tried to cover his head with his arms and crawl away. Suddenly the assault stopped. He peered around his arms curled protectively around him to see Rose with her hands wrapped around Saxon’s throat choking him. Saxon’s face was red and his eyes bulged as her fingers dug into his flesh.

“You will not hurt him or my city,” she said in a cold emotionless voice as Saxon struggled to tear her hands away. Nothing he did deterred her. The Doctor stared in horror as he she continued to squeeze the life out of Saxon. It was as if all the emotion was drained out of her. This wasn’t his Rose. 

“Rose, please. You can stop now,” he said, coughing and struggling to stand up. She ignored him.

“Listen to me. This isn’t you. Remember, you told me in your flat how you hated violence and want to live in peace.”

“He was going to kill you and burn the city,” she said tonelessly.

“But he didn’t. You stopped him. Please just take my hand.” He wiggled his fingers and she turned from Saxon and looked into his eyes. 

“Doctor,” she said softly as she let Saxon drop down to the floor. Just as she grasped his hand, Saxon leapt up.

“You stupid egg sucking hoard robber! Did you think I would be so easily defeated!” He grabbed her by her hair and yanked her backwards.

“No!” the Doctor shouted, reaching out for her hand but just brushing her fingertips.

“Thank you,” she said with tears in her eyes as she whipped around and shoved Saxon backwards over the sofa. She vaulted over it landing on his chest. He threw her to the side. She tumbled and rolled up arms and legs parrying his blows and landing a few more kicks at him. Fire flared up around Saxon just as Rose ran at him, grabbing him around the middle and pushing him backwards toward the shattered window. He struggled against her grabbing at the window frame.

“You cannot defeat me! I am invincible and eternal!” he shouted.

“Nothing is eternal. Everything dies,” Rose said with conviction  
.  
She aimed a warm look at the Doctor whispering, “I love you.” She then turned to Saxon, wrapped her arms around him and jumped out the window plunging ten stories down to the street below.

“No,” the Doctor said, his voice breaking. The building shook and the ceiling caved in. He ran through the debris toward the exit, finding his long brown coat covered in soot on the coat rack.

Pulling it on, he ran into the hall, wincing as his bare feet landed on burning embers. The stairwell was filled with smoke and people evacuating. He joined the mass of people crowding and shoving their way down to escape the fire. Outside the building was no less chaotic. Police and firemen were herding the people away from the building. Many of the smoke blackened faces seemed shocked, walking aimlessly whilst others had their mobiles out taking photos of the devastation. 

As he made his way to the side of the building where Rose and Saxon leapt out, he heard people talking about a gas explosion. When he reached the other side of the building, there was no sign anyone had jumped. Part of him was relieved fearing what he would find on the pavement. Another part of him worried about Rose. A fireman guided him to the sidewalk asking if he needed help.

He just stared at the man in the thick black coat with neon yellow striped sleeves.

“No, I was just…on my way home.”

He backed away as the fireman raised his eyebrows at him. The Doctor looked down at himself dressed in the tight black leather trousers, silk shirt and with bare feet knowing he must be a strange sight. He pulled his coat around him and slowly walked away, pausing once to look back at the tall silver glassed building as flames burst out a window.

Shoulders slumped he continued walking until he reached a familiar intersection. With no wallet or funds for bus fare, he lost himself in the crowd for the long walk back to his flat. The sun was sinking low in the sky by the time he reached the Farrington Flats. His feet were cold and dirty; he smelled of smoke and his body ached. He stood in the lobby and stared at the lift wondering about Rose.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to see her. Yet he needed to see her and make sure she was all right. A hand on his shoulder caused him to yelp and jump away.

“Easy, son,” Wilf said, looking him up and down. “What the hell happened to you?”

“It’s a long story and I…I don’t think you’d believe me.” 

“Come on,” Wilf said and ushered him into the lift. “You look like you need a drink, a good clean up and a friend.”

The Doctor nodded and silently followed Wilf. A few minutes later he was scrubbing his face with a flannel in Wilf’s bathroom and staring at himself in the mirror wondering what had happened to his life. Wilf knocked on the door calling him to tea.

Sitting at the table eating leftover curry with Wilf, it all seemed so normal. He began to wonder if he dreamed the whole thing but then he felt the leather trousers chafing him. Wincing he noticed Wilf staring at him.

“You going tell me what this is about?”

The Doctors mouth opened and closed a few times. He reached for the glass of whisky Wilf shoved at him and downed it in one gulp, hissing as it burned its way down his throat.

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

The Doctor sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, picking out flakes of ash and flicking them on the floor. Finally he raised his head to meet Wilf’s steady gaze. “Rose.”

Wilf nodded. “Figured as much. She went looking for you. Want to tell me where you’ve been?”

The Doctor sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I was…kidnapped.”

Wilf’s eyebrows shot up. “Kidnapped? As in someone grabbed you and held you hostage?”

“Yep,” the Doctor said popping his p. “Grabbed me at the university and shot me with some sort of tranquilizer dart.”

Wilf sipped his drink. “I see and you escaped from who exactly?”

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “Oh, you know, typical evil doer.” He cleared his throat and reached for the bottle of liquor. “The um new patron at the university, Harold Saxon.”

“The bloke who donated a load of cash at your university kidnapped you,” Wilf repeated.

“Yes, he was a bit…obsessed with me.”

“Well you are a bit pretty.” Wilf tried to hide a smile. 

“It’s not funny Wilf! He was mad, a lunatic!”

“Oh I’ve no doubt. So an obsessed admirer kidnaps you and Rose--”

“She found me and…” He swallowed hard struggling for the words.

“She loves you,” Wilf added. “I saw her this morning and we talked about you and how you didn’t come home. She was worried.”

“We had a disagreement the prior night,” the Doctor responded in a soft voice, staring down at his food.

“Yes, she told me. She seemed heartbroken over it. I encouraged her not to give up, to fight for you.”

The Doctor’s head snapped up but he kept silent which said more than any of his babble could.

“Eat your dinner,” Wilf ordered, watching the Doctor stare off into space, deep in thought.

As they cleaned the dishes and the Doctor tugged at his trousers for the third time that night, Wilf turned to him, dish towel in hand.

“So what’s with the new fashion? Not that I’m judging mind, just doesn’t seem like you.”

“It’s not!” the Doctor said, voice pitching upward. “Saxon made me wear this.”

Wilf whistled and shook his head. “We need to call the authorities?”

“No, he’s sorted.”

“Is that why Rose isn’t with you?” Wilf asked.

“Wilf, about Rose…she’s not exactly--” He sighed deeply staring down at the dirty dish water and wondering what he should reveal to Wilf. Rose asked him to keep her secret but this was Wilf and he trusted him. And he really needed someone to talk to about the insanity that was his life. But should he? Would it put Wilf in danger?

“Go on, spit it out. I can practically hear the gears turning in that big brain of yours.”

The Doctor’s mouth quirked up into a slight smile. He turned and leaned back against the counter in Wilf’s tiny kitchen.

“Wilf, Rose is not like other women.”

“Of course she’s not! I told you she’s quite the catch.”

“Yes but it’s a little more complicated than that,” the Doctor said slowly and with emphasis. “You see she’s…well she’s not…” He exhaled and tugged at his hair before dropping his arm down to his side.

“Wilf, this is going to sound like I’m a complete nutter.”

“Let me guess.” Wilf tossed the dish towel on the counter. “You’re girlfriend’s a dragon and you don’t know what to do.”

The Doctor’s jaw dropped. “How?”

Wilf grinned. “I’ve spent enough time with her to notice a few things. There was the hot skin, smoke and that bit of shimmer of scales this morning.” He turned and walked back to the living room. “That combined with her living down below and that shop of hers, The Hoard, well it all made sense.”

The Doctor followed him, rubbing the back of his neck nervously before plopping down on Wilf’s old green sofa his brow furrowed in disbelief. “You figured it out on your own?”

“Well it’s not like it wasn’t obvious if you paid attention.” Wilf looked up. “Ohhh you didn’t know!” He laughed and slapped his thigh. “Ha, I’ve got one on you!”

“Sorry, dragon is not the first thing I think of when I’m being snogged by a beautiful woman. I mean how do you even--?”

“Mythology. You should study it more and well, talk to her. She’s a fount of knowledge, far more than most young women her age And she’s crazy for you.”

“And she’s a dragon,” the Doctor said and sat back staring down at his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Do? I should think that’s easy. She loves you and you love her.”

“Wilf, it’s not that simple. I mean she’s a different species and she thinks I’m her treasure and it’s just complicated. Then there’s the mad versions of her species that want to burn down London and trust me, you don’t want to come face to face with that!”

“Wait, there’s another dragon?” Wilf ‘s eyes lit up. “The bloke that kidnapped you!”

“Wilf she attacked him, saved me and probably the city. That’s what she does. London is her territory and she keeps us all safe.”

“All by herself,” Wilf said softly and paused, glancing at the telly. “The explosion of those flats at Canary Wharf. Was that them?”

“Yes.”

“Did he take you to get to her?”

The Doctor’s face flamed red. “Um no. He just sort of liked me.”

Wilf narrowed his eyes. “Doctor, what aren’t you telling me?”

The Doctor thudded his head back against the padding of the sofa. “Wilf, please. This is bad enough without discussing what dragons obsess about.”

Wilf’s brow furrowed. “In mythology and literature, dragons like to collect things, gold, jewels, cattle, items of magical value and oh princes and princesses!” Wilf’s gaze travelled up and down the Doctor. “You descended from royalty?”

“No and there may be a bit more to it than that.” He shifted around, avoiding looking at Wilf.

“More than stealing a nice princess? Well if royal lineage is out why would a dragon swipe a princess?” He stilled and rubbed his hand over his beard shooting a speculative look at the Doctor.

“Don’t Wilf. Just don’t.”

“A princess might be tucked away in a tower like a treasure to be discovered only by her princely husband.” The Doctor refused to look at him.

“You can’t be. I mean you’re thirty six years old, a university professor, travelled abroad, explored the world and from what I see, you’re popular.”

“I was busy!” the Doctor answered defensively.

Wilf shook his head back and forth tutting. “Well then I guess you really are her treasure. But that doesn’t mean that’s all you are to her. In fact I refuse to believe it and maybe she wants to you know, de-treasure you.”

Head firmly planted in his hands, the Doctor had no words. The day could not get any worse. And perhaps it was time to end it.

“I really can’t have this conversation.”

Wilf walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve had a hell of day. Things will look better after a good night’s rest.”

The Doctor nodded his head and stood up. “Thanks, Wilf.”

“No problem. This is what friends are for.”

“Discussing interspecies relations and how to talk to your dragon girlfriend?”

Wilf shrugged. The Doctor smiled and thanked him again.

It wasn’t until he stepped off the lift and walked down the hall that he realized he had no key to his flat.

“Bugger,” he muttered as he squeezed his eyes shut and scrubbed his face.

Just as he was about to turn back to the lift he heard a soft voice, “Doctor.”

Rose sat leaning against his door. She looked tattered and covered in soot and dried blood. Standing up she reached out for him but then pulled her hand back appearing uncertain.

“We need to talk.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - MAJOR NSFW WARNING. This chapter deals with Human Dragon/Human Sex and how that might differ slightly. No alien parts but there is fire involved ;) So there be smut ahead in this chapter and some crack and some fluff. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading this story. I know it was a little different but it's been fun exploring dragon human AU. I started out writing a stronger more aggressive Rose which somehow morphed into a role reversal and I'm kind of pleased with that. I hope you enjoyed it too.

A thick tension separated the Doctor and Rose as the lift descended down to the basement. Rose stood rigid staring at the doors as the Doctor shifted from foot to foot his gaze fixated upward at the fluorescent lights.

The doors slid open and Rose released a pent up breath before stepping into the hall. She paused with a hand on the lift door, holding it open and looked back at the Doctor her head tilted to the side in question.

They briefly locked eyes. The Doctor swallowed hard, nodding once as he stepped out. The only sound in the basement was the soft clunk of Rose’s boots on the concrete floor mixed with a mechanical hum of the building equipment in the nearby utilities room. The keys jangled and Rose fumbled with them as she stopped to open her flat’s door. The Doctor hesitated in the doorway as she walked in flicking on lights. 

It looked the same as he last time he’d been there, fairy lights sparkling against strings of crystals, black leather furniture and filled with unique trinkets. It was so very her. But now he looked around with a new perspective. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block the memory of the maniacal expression on Saxon’s face as he strutted about his flat gleefully setting it on fire. 

“Doctor?” Her voice was soft and cracked slightly. He opened his eyes to see her standing in front of the kitchen, the light glowing against her skin revealing shadows beneath her eyes, rips in her jeans and jacket along with scrapes and scratches. Her wounds were mending right before his eyes.

She wasn’t human. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Neither was Saxon. But that’s where the similarities between the two ended. At least he thought so but then again, he remembered the cold look in her eyes as she squeezed the life from Saxon. But she hadn’t killed him. Or had she? He heard her call his name again.

“Saxon?” he asked, as he shut the door and leaned against it.

Face downturned, she toed her boot into the carpet before looking him in the eyes.

“He’s sorted.”

The crossed his arms in front of him, head slightly bowed. “Did you…”

“No.” she answered quickly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Not exactly.”

“Rose, I’m not blaming you. I just--” 

“We fell,” she said, interrupting him. “We bounced off a taxi and he ran. It was chaos what with the fire trucks pulling up, police and people everywhere. He knew I wouldn’t let him go, that I had something worth fighting for and with all those people around, he couldn’t play the big bad dragon. So he ran.”

“And you followed.”

“I had to. I couldn’t let him run loose in the city. You saw what he did to the building…to you.” She paused, blinking back tears. “He didn’t make it very far before I caught up with the charred piece of filth. You’d think he’d skulk off to regroup but no, the egotistical bastard had to have one last snarl at me.” Snorting and shaking her head, her eyes flared with dragon fire. “He didn’t even see the bus coming. Just strode out into the street like he was king of the city.”

Brow furrowed, the Doctor’s mouth gaped. “He got run over by a bus?”

Rose shrugged. “Not the most dignified way to die but maybe it was fitting in a way. He was ended by the modern world he never respected or understood.”

“I’m sorry. I know he was another of your kind,” the Doctor said with compassion even though he felt relieved the mad dragon was gone.

She walked up to the Doctor stopping a few feet away. “He was a dragon but he wasn’t my kind. He was mad, focused on power and domination. I wasn’t raised that way and it’s not what I want.”

“He was alone and desperate. He said he lost his treasure, a girl, that she died. Is that what you want – a treasure?” the Doctor asked.

“No, I mean sort of but not in his sick way. He was obsessed, possessive and mad. Doctor, I’m not like him. You know that, right?”

“I don’t know.” Hands digging into his hair he began pacing. “Everything’s so turned around. A day ago, I was a university professor dating a lovely young woman who I hoped might be my future. And now, the world is inhabited by dragons that look like people and who collect treasure they want to…” He stopped and scrubbed at his face before spinning toward her. 

“Rose, he told me things. He told me why he wanted me. He said you were the same.”

“I’m not him. You must see that. I told you if you didn’t want me, I wouldn’t force myself on you. It would be painful for me to stay away– the most pain of my life but I could never make you unhappy. It would be worse than living without you.”

There was firmness to her voice mixed with that slight raspy sound she made when she was passionate about something. She hadn’t pressured him or even dare grasp his hand. She’d given him space in the lift and every gesture since had been her waiting on him to decide. The easy decision was to run like he did the last time. Only, that hadn’t solved anything and resulted in an even bigger problem. Wilf said it was time for him to stop running and he was right.

“I do see you, Rose, who you are, and I think maybe we should…talk.”

“Thank you,” she said as a smile lit her face. “You must be knackered. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make us some tea.”

With a grateful nod he stepped toward the sofa. It was as he sat down that he remembered his unyielding attire. His trousers truly were skin tight. He tugged and winced finally plopping down on the sofa with a curse on his lips. His head lolled to the side as he squirmed trying to find a comfortable position and he caught sight of Rose watching him, her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Nothing, I was just…I mean you look uncomfortable,” she said with hesitation before her eyes widened. “Oh god, are you hurt? Did he injure you?” Rushing over she slid onto the sofa and caressed his forehead. “Wear does it hurt?”

He stilled, fingers digging into his leather trousers. “No, no, no I’m not hurt. It’s just…”

Her gaze travelled the length of him focusing on said leather trousers and how they clung to his hips. Teeth pressed into her bottom lip, her gaze travelled back up to his eyes.

“Please don’t say it. This is not…” He squirmed and reached up to tug at his hair as his cheeks flushed. “He made me put these on.” His voice was soft as he dropped his arms to his side and slumped down pouting.

“I see.” Rose sat beside him, her face down turned as she clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry all of this happened and he did this to you but…” A smile quirked her face as she glanced at him through a cascade of blonde hair. 

“But?” he asked, watching as she lounged back next to him, mischief glinting in her eyes.

“Well, this style isn’t exactly you but it does have a certain appeal.” 

Candles flared around her flat as she ran her fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut and his mouth gaped slightly as he felt her nails gently scrape his scalp. Heat flushed through him and a familiar warmth unfurled causing his trousers to feel a little tighter. But it was the subtle scent of smoke that broke through the fog of lust clouding his mind. 

His eyes snapped open and he wrapped a hand around her wrist, stilling her caresses.

“This isn’t who I am. I’m not just a treasure dressed up for some weird dragon fetish.”

Rose shifted away, hunched over shaking and snorting giggles.

“It’s not funny. Leather doesn’t breath and it chafes.” He shifted his legs around wincing.

She laughed harder falling over on her side, tears wetting her face.

“I’m serious, Rose. I’m not some pet you can dress up.”

Her laughter quieted and she sat up with a more solemn expression. “No you’re not and you shouldn’t have been treated that way. Sorry I laughed it’s just you’re still my adorable Doctor and you’ve handled this much better than most would have.” Her face softened. “This doesn’t happen every day to me either. I haven’t seen another of my kind in over fifty years.”

He tensed and stared at her. “Fifty years?”

She ducked her head twirling some hair around her finger. “I’m a bit older than I look.”

“How much older?” he asked, his voice pitched up as his discomfort was shrugged away.

“Does it matter?” Her eyes sparked gold as she waited for him to respond.

“Well yes…I mean if you’re--” He tugged at his ear and exhaled loudly before turning toward her. 

“Rose, you say you love me but how can someone who’s lived for possibly a century or more find me the least bit interesting. Unless it’s because I’m…you know uh choosey about who I share my treasureness with.” 

The bright and brilliant smile that so captured him lit her face. She shifted over and reached for his hand lacing her fingers with his.

“Is that what this is about? You think I only love you because you’ve been particular with your love life and haven’t put a few notches on your belt?” She squeezed his hands and leaned into him, laying a gentle kiss on his shoulder as he sat rigid and uncomfortable looking anywhere but at her.

“I won’t deny finding your chastity attractive. But that’s not why I love you. I mean it’s a part of it because it’s part of who you are. And don’t let anyone make you embarrassed of that. You aren’t defined by your sexual urges, Doctor. You’re better than that.” She curled up into his side, her skin warm against his side and her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“People, humans are amazing creatures. Yeah a lot of you are pretty much slaves of your animal instincts to reproduce and not far from your more primitive beginnings. And you often muck up and go to war and tend to rip apart this world but you also marvel at its wonders, create artwork to honour not just nature but your history and your dreams; you study the stars and hurl yourselves into space or down into the deepest most forbidden crevices in the ocean just to satisfy your curiosity. You build communities, pull together in times of crisis and evolve ever so slowly but you keep trying and never give up. 

“And then there’s you. You are the best of your people. My amazing treasure, you follow your heart instead of your hormones. Instead off hunting for a mate every night, you have dinner with Wilf or help your students or just embrace the ebb of flow and life around you. That’s what really shines in you and especially when you get all sciencey and geek out on some new experiment or when you’re lecturing your students. All that brilliance and compassion shines and is all sparkly like. And yeah, it sort of turns me on.”

He shivered at the deep husky tone of her voice and couldn’t help responding to her tongue teasing smile. Dragon or not, she was beautiful to him and what could be more attractive than a woman declaring she loved how brilliant you are.

“So you’re a science groupie then?” he teased, wrapping his tongue around the words in his own version of seduction.

“Mmmm yeah,” she purred, leaning into him, their faces inches from each other. “When you talk about surfactant molecules, oxidation and enzymes, it makes my toes curl.”

“Oh, I love you.” His lips barely brushed against hers. “Dragon, woman or anything in between. You are without a doubt the most fascinating creature I’ve ever met and…you make me feel--” His face scrunched up and he arched off the sofa. “Bloody leather!”

Rose covered her face giggling uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry. Let me help you.”

“We’ll have to cut them off. It’s like they’re suctioned--” His voice drifted off as he stared down at the black leather torture device and realized what he’d said.

He glanced at her only to find a cheeky grin aimed at him.

“Oh I think I can get them off of you. If you want, that is.” Her brow was arched as if issuing a challenge.

He wanted to accept that challenge no matter where it led. He didn’t want to run or delay or put her off. He meant what he’d said. He didn’t see a dragon when he looked at her. He saw her, the essence of who she was – a protector of the city, a caring woman, a friend, a girl he could laugh with and who thought science was hot.

“Yes, I’d like that,” he said in a low voice.

His breath caught as she ran a hand lightly over his thigh.

“That’s…that’s not helping.”

Her lips were soft and warm as she trailed kisses down his cheek and neck murmuring against his skin not to worry as she nipped him ever so slightly on his clavicle. The slight sting of her teeth caused him to shiver with a delicious heat shooting up his spine.

“Rose,” he gasped as his heart slammed in his chest and he clawed into the leather of her sofa.

She slid to the floor positioning herself between his legs. He’d never seen anything more erotic as the predatory look simmering in her golden flecked eyes. Whimpers escaped as her hands glided up his thighs and she ran the pads of he fingers over the bulge in his trousers. He swore one of her dragon abilities must be sexual combustion as his skin felt afire beneath the ever tightening trousers.

Licking her lips and resting her cheek on his knee, she traced the straining zipper up and down the front of his trousers.

“I need you know this isn’t just about sex.”

He gulped down air as he looked at her through heavily lidded eyes. “It’s not?” His voice was thick and low and he reached over to still her fingers, pressing her hand into where he wanted her most. “Feels like it from where I’m sitting. Not that I’m complaining but might be better with less clothing.”

She smiled and hummed into his knee. “Yes but sex with me isn’t just casual. Not that I haven’t enjoyed a bit of fun with humans but you’re different and it would be different between for us.”

He gripped her hand tighter as his inner scientist shouted – dragon, different species. Immediately, a dozen different scenarios raced through his mind. He cleared his throat.

“Different as in your parts don’t fit with mine or different as in I’m going to burst into flames?”

She chuckled and purred into his leg as her skin shimmered with a slight glimpse of iridescence.

“Our parts will fit just fine. Better than fine.” She popped the button on his waist band and rested her index finger on the zipper tab. “Told you, I’ve been with humans before just not in the way I want to with you.”

His blood pounded in his ears as she pulled the zipper down tooth by tooth and stopped part way.

“Last time we talked, I told you that you’re my ultimate treasure, the one I love most and I would burn for you. I meant that. I love you and will love you forever. If we do this, then it would mean we could spend our lives together.”

The heat flushing his skin and discomfort of his trousers was forgotten as the reality of her words sank into his lust addled mind. 

“You live longer than humans. I’d age, wither and die while you lived on.” His voice was quiet almost a whisper as he spoke about the disparity in their ages. It was a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions and it tempered his arousal. She would live on alone. A dull ache formed in this chest at the unfairness of this. He thought of Wilf and the light shining his eyes as he spoke of his wife and how much he missed her. 

As if reading his mind Rose called out to him. Her steady gaze held nothing but warmth and the pain in his chest eased. Love conquers all. How many times had he scoffed at that phrase unable to understand the power in it. But now, with Rose warm and alive, offering him her love and after everything he’d witnessed over the past two days, he was starting to believe that statement.

“Doctor,” she said with a more firm voice. “It doesn’t have to be that way. You could be with me but it means you’d have to change.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“We would mate. I would share myself with you and you would become more like me. It’s what my parents did. My mum was once human like you.”

“That’s impossible. You can’t just change species!” he exclaimed, feeling flustered and frustrated at this turn in what had been looking like a satisfying seduction.

Rose toyed with his zipper before cocking her head to the side and looking at him through thick lashes. “We adapted to be more like humans, to live with humans seamlessly but like we’ve talked about, they’re differences. You’ve only seen a few of the more obvious things.”

She trailed slipped a finger beneath his trousers where the zipper gaped open. The Doctor’s breath hitched.

“Yes.” He hissed his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to even his breathing. “You…you can make fire.”

“Mmmm yes, in more ways than one.” She pulled the zipper open a little further. He clamped down on his lower lip as the coolness of silk shirt slid across his arousal while she casually pulled it free from his trousers. She seemed oblivious to slow torment she inflicted on his heated body and he struggled to listen to her over the sound of his pounding heart. 

“It’s part of how we mate and why you sometimes make me lose control. You see, not unlike humans we have a biologic need to find a compatible mate. But our species are few and one rarely finds another dragon that is willing to give up control and merge their fire with another. We’ve always had an affinity for humans even in the old days and now that we’ve changed, we can take it to the next level.”

Dark brown eyes fixated on her golden dragon’s gaze as he started to realize what she was suggesting. 

“A new way to covet your treasure.” He reached out and rans his fingers through her hair allowing the silky strands to fall through his fingers.

She bit her lip and leaned into his hand. “If by covet you mean merge--” She leaned over and kissed his finger tips. “Mate and bind our heart to them and show them everlasting love and devotion, then yes.” 

“How?” he asked, cupping her cheek enjoying the warm softness of her skin as her fingers continued their tortuous journey releasing him from his trousers.

“Genetic exchange and a little ancient alchemy, triggering a change that over time allows our beloved to change, bond and enjoy the gifts of a new life – one filled with wonder, love and knowledge that they are part of a great heritage that stretches back to the primordial beginnings of this world.”

He angled her head so their eyes locked onto one another. “You’re saying you’d shag me into being a dragon?” 

The concept fascinated him but it meant he’d be giving up something as well. He’d live a life of deception, separate from the world around him. But he would gain things too. Warmth flushed through him as he thought of Rose, growing with her, exploring and learning about the world through her eyes with her as his teacher. He’d already glimpsed what that felt like on their dates as she shared bits of history. But he wouldn’t be human.

“I have to decide now?”

She sat back, pulling herself away from him. “I can’t be with you and not bond. It’s instinctual for me. If you don’t want this with me--”

“I do,” he quickly inserted, reaching out for her, already missing the warmth of her body near him. He grasped her hand.

“It’s just a lot to take in and what if I’m--” He heaved out a breath. “What if I’m a rubbish dragon and you get fed up with me? Eternity as the dragon who couldn’t burn his way out of a rucksack would be miserable and lonely.” He punctuated this with a firm pout to his bottom lip as he tilted his head back as doubt overwhelmed him.

A deep throaty laugh bubbled out of Rose as she leaned into him and patted his thigh. 

“Doctor, stop. Look at me.” 

He looked into her eyes and felt the firestorm of doubt begin to quiet.

“Dragons love fiercely and don’t mate on a whim. I told you we don’t’ fall out of love like humans. When we love, we love forever. I want to spend my forever with you. So tell me, my treasure, what do you want?”

His breath caught. No more running. This was it. He knew the answer without overthinking it which was one of the many firsts he’d experienced of late. 

“You, I want you, to be with you, to love you. And I’m terrified. I just want to do this right. I want happily ever after even if it means learning how to breathe fire and grow scales and speaking of that. Do we have those glowy scales everywhere?” He darted a look down to his crotch. “And when you say exchange genetic material and ancient alchemy is that in the traditional sense? I mean I know the mechanics of human sexuality but I’ve never…I mean you know that I’m a bit unskilled.” 

She wedged herself between his thighs and gripped his shirt pulling him close. He sputtered to a stop as he gazed into her eyes and felt her warmth wrap around him. The kiss that followed was gentle at first with her soft lips brushing against his mouth. As her teeth grazed his bottom lip, it triggered a need to dig his fingers into her hair. 

Rose deepened the kiss, tongue darting into his mouth eliciting a groan as he responded to her with his own oral gratification. He inhaled, his senses tantalized by her rich smoky scent subtly tinged with something spicy. As he sucked at her bottom lip, he felt her grip his shirt and rip it open, buttons flying across the sofa as the silky material slid down his shoulders. 

She pulled away and helped him out of his shirt until he was bare chested. A growl vibrated in her chest as she raked her fingers down his chest. 

“Mmmmm I like it. You’re so hard and soft at the same time.”

He tilted his head down and watched her chipped black painted nails trail down his chest.

“Dragons don’t…that is to say are they follicly challenged in the err chest area?”

Rose giggled in response still focused on enjoying the soft, dark brown hair across his chest.

“I mean am I gonna lose my hair as part of the dragonizing?”

“God I hope not!” She responded. “I love it! You’re so fluffy and gorgeous. Mmmm, my fluff muffin”

“Fluff muffin?” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think that’s a very manly…oh--” He inhaled as her fingers dipped down beneath the waistband of his trousers and then focused once again on his zipper. Clearing his throat, he couldn’t stop thinking about the ramifications of becoming a dragon.

“Rose, um you said you hope not, regarding errr my--” He gulped and pinched his eyes shut as she lowered his zipper further and the metal teeth of the zipper scraped against his erection. The slight discomfort was surprisingly erotic, sparking more heat to his groin. 

Her warm hand curled around him easing his length from the constraint of his trousers. He released a shaky breath as his eyes opened watching her. Hair curtaining around her face, she leaned in and licked his tip. He cried out arching off the sofa before collapsing down, a shudder coursing through his body. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful and yet intense and tingly.

Fingers digging into the sofa, he focused on calming himself lest he lose control completely and lost the opportunity to experience full on dragon sex. And he wanted that experience to last as long as possible.

“You taste divine,” she purred, thumb running up and down his length as he watched her with heavily lidded eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but was overwhelmed by the sensation of her warm soft lips on his tip.

“Rose,” he gasped.

She soothed him and patted his thigh. “I’ll have you out of these soon. Just need to get a bit more comfortable first.”

“Com-fortable?” he stuttered as he watched her rise up like a goddess and begin to disrobe. Her movements were smooth and elegant as she peeled off her leather coat, tossing it to the side, her gaze fixated on him. Her shirt was pulled off next and followed by boots and jeans until she wore nothing but a black lace bra and the tiniest knickers he’d ever seen. Not that he was an expert at women’s lingerie but he couldn’t imagine anyone wearing those tiny scraps as well as she did. His brain shorted out as she prowled over him, her thighs straddled him. 

“My Doctor, my treasure.”

Her voice had a growling quality now, eyes completely transformed to golden orbs with dark irises. In a fluid movement she inhaled over his chest rising up again and releasing her breath with tendrils of smoke curled around her. The candles around the flat flared and her skin shimmered in rainbow of coloured scales. 

Mouth gaping he could taste the smoke in the air as it curled around his tongue. It wasn’t unpleasant, more familiar in an odd way. He tried to focus on this but found he was unable to do more than watch her, feel the heat of her skin and his own heart pounding out as excitement zinged up his spine.

Sex, the prelude and foreplay was more than he expected. Or maybe it was sex with her. Everything he was feeling went beyond physical gratification or a simple release of pheromones and adrenalin. He was consumed by a sensory overload of sight and scent; of the vibrations from her voice that caused his muscles to contract and the feel of her warm soft skin and the promise that soon he would have her wrapped around him.

This was not an experiment he could observe, catalogue and hypothesize about. This was life – he could feel it, all around them pulsing, warm, moving, flowing like the turn of the Earth and he could feel it in her and how they were connected by passion and love. 

He rested his hands on her hips as she arched her back and stretched upward revelling in the moment, her hair reflecting the shimmering blues, greens and golds of her skin. With a quiet laugh, she righted herself before aiming a seductive and hungry smile at him. Leaning in close she brushed her lips over the shell of his ear. 

“Stop thinking so much and touch me.”

“I wasn’t thinking too…wait…t-touch you?” he said, his breathing hitching again as his erection brushed against the lace of her knickers.

“You always think too much,” she responded, rubbing her index finger across his lips, paying special attention to his lower lip. He licked at her finger and she smiled with a warm growl vibrating deep in her chest.

He swallowed hard unsure why he’d done that but pleased at her response. She released her bra and it went flying across the room. Creamy pink tipped breasts bounced slightly and grazed his chest when she leaned over to enjoy a deep snog. His hands drifted downward across the scrap of lace squeezing her bum.

She pulled away with a wet pop of her lips. “Sex is about feeling.” 

His hands moved back to her hips and she guided him toward the tiny triangle of lace at the apex of her thighs. Pressing on the damp fabric, he slid his fingers beneath though her curls to find her wet heat. 

“Yes,” she hissed as he glided his fingers through her folds.

She helped him find the spot she wanted and the candles flared again. Smoke hung in the air as she rocked into him biting her lip. 

As she whimpered and writhed, he felt his own arousal increase. There was something satisfying about knowing he was pleasuring her. The glow of her skin flared as she bucked hard against his hand as he found that tight bundle of nerves that triggered a heat wave to flare around him. With a growl her body stiffened and she leaned down to kiss him.

“Mmmmm not bad.”

She brought his hand to her mouth and sucked his fingers clean. 

Mouth gaping, on thought pounded in his mind: he wasn’t going to last. 

“Shhhh,” she murmured squeezing his shoulders as if she was reading his mind and for all he knew, she could.

She leaned over and nipped and sucked at his neck and there was a sharp stinging sensation before his blood pulsed with liquid fire that spread down his body. Sweat beaded his skin and all he could focus on was getting naked and pressing his skin against hers. 

She looked once into his eyes, cupping his cheek. “I love you.”

“Rose, I need you.” His voice was desperate and he gripped her hips with bruising strength trying to grind against her.

-0-0-0-0-

The desire to mate was overwhelming her sense of control. She understood now why in the days of old her kind swept away humans that sparkled like diamonds with their enthusiasm and wonder. And her Doctor shined with that tenfold. She bathed in the warmth of his curiosity and brilliance. Love made him burn even brighter and she relished it, allowing it to set her skin aflame. 

He thought dragons captured his kind, kept and coveted them but that was an illusion. It was humans like him that held the power. She was his and always would be. Neither the passage of time nor changes in the world around them would dim her love for him. It was a gift and a curse to love with such intensity. But it was worth any pain she might suffer to mate with her beloved.

His eyes deepened and darkened into liquid bronze as he embraced the gift of her kind. It would be the first of many changes. His skin heated to match hers and as his fingers dug into her skin, passion drove him into a moral primal state of desire. 

Wrapping her arms around him, he was drawn to her breasts, licking at her skin and moaning as he tasted her. He needed little encouragement as he made use of his clever tongue flicking at her nipples and murmuring his desires into her flesh. Wet heat built low within her. Dragons needed a full joining. Foreplay stoked the fire but she needed him inside of her, needed to complete the bond and feel him come undone.

Easing him away, she enjoyed the way his eyes sparked with a touch of the flames roaring inside of him. She’d never felt this potent need to just shag someone – hot, vigorous shagging with teeth and nails digging into flesh. She shuddered as she ached to feel him between her thighs thrusting and grunting, taking her hard and fast.

She shifted off of his lap, standing up as he protested, fingers still digging into her skin. She could see the changes in him already. Reaching over she swept hair off his forehead. He caught her palm and nipped at it. Caressing the hint of stubble on his jaw, she reached for his hands and together they slid her knickers off. Nude and shimmering before him in a full state of arousal, she watched him for any hesitation.

His nostrils flared and he licked his lips. Body tense, he rumbled an appreciative sound in his chest. A thrill shot through her, pleased he was ready. But there was one last barrier standing in their way. She sank down before him, eyeing the black leather nemesis. 

Laying her hands on his thighs, she scraped her nails across the material warmed by his skin beneath. This was a symbol. A remnant of what happened when another tried to separate them the way this material prevented her from touching him and it needed to be dealt with. 

“Rose,” he growled at her as she looked up to meet his hungry gaze. 

“No one will ever take you from me again.” 

Blue flames spread from her fingers enveloping his legs.

“Rose, I think…” His eyes widened as the flames skimming his lower half and flared around Rose.

“Fire cleanses, destroying, remaking and transforming what it touches,” she said in a husky voice as the blue of the fire reflected in the crystals over head, the heat making them chime against one another.

“It purifies and makes all it touches stronger, like a phoenix rises from the ashes proud and powerful.”

In a woosh of flames, leather turned to ash and fell from the Doctor leaving his skin flushed but unburnt as he yelped and jumped up off the sofa.

“That…was literally hot and brilliant and…” She kissed him quiet, digging her nails into the nape of his neck and walking him backwards toward her bedroom. 

Tingling sparks flashed across from her skin to his. All she could think about was at last it was just them, together skin to skin, no more barriers or deceptions just raw need and love. Nipping at his bottom lip, she moaned feeling his hands squeeze her bum. The jolt as he hit the side of her bed was all the encouragement she needed to shove him down and pounce on him as the mattress bounced. 

“Now, then. Where were we?” she asked playfully, running her hands across his toned abs. “Let’s see, I think I was about to show my treasure that being chaste is attractive but mating the one you love with all your heart is far more satisfying.”

They squirmed across the bed legs entangled as each nipped at the other. Rose moaned as he bit hard on that special spot on her neck almost to her clavicle. Her pulse thrummed as his tongue flicked her skin. He’d lost all his prior bashfulness and hesitancy. The feel of his fingers delving deep between her legs affirmed that. But she’d had enough teasing and was ready to move things forward.

She rolled him into the mattress hands resting on his shoulder as she pinned him down. Shifting, she settled herself on his hips, her fingers trailing up and down his length. Without warning, he flipped them. 

Startled she looked up at predatory eyes gleaming with excitement. Normally she would have tossed him back over, but there was his tongue between his teeth with that naughty quirk to his mouth she loved so much. She liked to be dominant and in control, especially with sex. But this night was different. She’d bitten him and now he was starting to feel different, the primitive bit of the dragons of old pulsing through him. 

She knew very little about this process. Only what few bits and pieces of information her father let slip when he’d had a few bottles too many of his secret Scotch stash. The change took time and the bite only initiated the first stage. A smile lit her face as she contemplated his body reacting to her bite flooding him with adrenalin and hormones. Now she understood why her father blushed and changed the subject.

Without a word he parted her legs, shoving her knees up and crawled up her body. She reached down and helped angle him at her entrance. 

“Rose…I…feel--” 

“Like shoving your cock into me hard and losing yourself inside of me?” she suggested, smiling as she tunnelled her fingers through his hair.

He nodded panting.

“I want that too, want to feel you.”

He looked at her through hooded eyes and shuddered before slowing pushing into her. Rose bit her lip arching up her hips to help him and moaned as he filled her. He was hard and thick sliding into her just the way she wanted. The duvet moved as his fingers dug into the fabric. She wrapped her legs around his hips and gasped his name as she felt his hot breath on her ear. Her skin shimmered and nearby candles flared as she encouraged him to move. With guttural grunts and skin flushed, he slid in and out of her.

Feeling his hard flesh hitting her just right, she gripped his hips and angled him so he ground into her pressing against all the right nerve endings until smoke filled the air and tendrils of blue fire curled around them. Something ancient and primitive uncoiled with in her as her nails bit into his flesh hard enough to draw blood.

“My treasure,” she growled in a deep dragon growl just as heat shot through her womb and she clenched around him until they screamed in unison. An explosion of thermodynamic proportions shook the walls, lamps fell over and light bulbs exploded. Smoke drifted up in wisps around them as sweat slick limbs slid apart.

Panting, the Doctor rolled over on his back staring up at the cracked ceiling. He furrowed his brow as the sound of a smoke alarm blared. Rose curled into his side. “Mmm that was good.”

“Rose, um did we set the building on fire?” he asked, glancing out the door toward the living room.

Rose drew her toe up his calf. “Don’t think so. Feels more like we blew out a few heat sensors and might have shook the building a bit.”

“What?” he gasped and turned to her, his eyes a bit glazed.

“You are so adorable,” she murmured and traced a circle around one of his nipples. 

“But maybe we should get up and check?” His voice was pitched up in a nervous way.

“Dragon here. If there was a fire, I’d know and one day you will too. Enhanced senses are part of the deal.”

His eyes fluttered closed and he hummed as he stretched next to her and turned to cuddle closer before opening his eyes again. “So dragon sex.”

“Mating and dragon sex,” she corrected. 

“Is that why we sort of exploded?” He arched a brow at her.

Giggling she bumped her head into his shoulder. “Sort of. Not that sex won’t be explosive but this was a little special. Sort of like you.”

“We had sex,” he stated like it was a revelation. “Fornicated, done the horizontal mambo, popped my cherry! I’m de-treasured!” he exclaimed.

Rose shook from stifling her laughter. “I guess you could put it that way. We are officially mated and bonded.”

“Dragon style,” he added with a cocky smirk and waggle of his eyebrows before leaning over to nip her shoulder. “By my dragon mate. So when do my super dragon powers manifest?”

“Some already are by the sign of what’s poking me.” She looked down toward his growing arousal.

“Decreased refractory time,” he said with wonder. “That’s brilliant.”

“There will be more. We’ll take it one day at a time, yeah?”

“Yes.” He nodded his head and nuzzled into her neck. “I’m glad I waited for you.”

Rose turned so they were nose to nose, a happiness fluttering in her chest. “I’m so happy I met you. So happy you could see me and not--” Her voice cracked and tears wet her eyes. “I just love you so much and want to share my life with you.”

His lips brushed against hers until soon they were tangled up around each other. As arousal flared between them, he pulled back.

“Um Rose I should have asked this before but in the heat of the moment I may have been distracted.”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“What about pregnancy? I mean should we be using protection and what sort of protection does a dragon use? I mean the condom would probably sort of melt…” His nose wrinkled and brow furrowed as he lost himself in this thought.

“Yes,” she said laughing. “You can knock me up but not just yet I don’t think. I mean you still have a humany tang so you have a ways to go for genetic compatibility.”

“Ahhh well that’s good to know.”

Snogging recommenced and Rose hitched a leg over his hip. And then he stopped and pulled back again.

“Wait, Dragons are reptiles. Do you lay eggs?”

Rose scraped her nails across his shoulder as a soft smile lit her face. “You are just so cute. Snogging now, dragon reproductive science later.” He didn’t have any more questions for her the rest of the night.

Meanwhile the residents at 231 Farrington ambled about outside their building complaining about faulty wiring as Firemen double checked the alarm system. Wilf, in jim jams and a blue robe, stood across the street. With a smile and shake of his head, he muttered, “Faulty wiring? Ha, here there be dragons.”


End file.
